'ft^-p'Kjfr--v%?g^^::.<c-.>;;.a.i^:^> 


THE     MODERN    DRAMA    SERIES 
EDITED    BY   EDWIN   BJÔRKMAN 


THE   VULTURES     •    THE   WOMAN    OF    PARIS 
THE  MERRY-GO-ROUND  •  BY  HENRY  BECQUE 


THE  VULTURES 
THE  WOMAN  OF  PARIS 
THE  MERRY-GO-ROUND 

THREE  PLAYS  BY 

HENRY   BECQUE 


TRANSLATED    FROM    THE    FRENCH 
WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION    BY 

FREEMAN   TILDEN 


NEW   YORK 

MITCHELL   KENNERLEY 

MCMXIII 


COPYRIGHT,   I913,  MITCHELL  KENNERLEY 


THK-PLIMPTON-PRBSS 
NORWOOD-MASS-U-3-A 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction  vii 

Chronological  List  of  Plays  by  Henry  Becque  xiv 

The  Vultures  1 

The  Woman  of  Paris  153 

The  Merry-Go-Round  231 


INTRODUCTION 

HENRY  BECQUE  (1837-1899)  was  one  of  those 
men  of  letters  to  whom  falls  the  ungrateful  lot 
of  giving  the  public  what  it  does  not  want.  In  the 
very  heyday  of  romanticism,  Becque  had  the  effrontery 
to  hawk  an  entirely  different  line  of  wares  in  the 
Parisian  theatrical  markets.  He  boldly  trespassed 
against  the  most  sacred  traditions  built  up  and 
sustained  under  the  guidance  of  Sardou.  He  flouted 
the  "  happy  ending  "  ;  he  questioned  the  infallibility 
of  M.  Sarcey;  he  even  thought  it  possible  to  write  a 
drama  in  five  acts,  when  everybody  knew  that  four  acts 
must  be  the  limit.     Becque  was  a  revolutionist. 

Yet  even  revolutionists  have  friends  and  admirers. 
Becque  had  comparatively  few,  but  those  few  were 
powerful  enough  to  force  the  production  of  plays  which, 
lacking  this  propulsion  of  friendship,  could  never  have 
seen  the  light.  One  of  these  friends  was  Edouard 
Thierry,  one-time  director  of  the  Comédie  Française. 
Another,  strange  to  say,  was  Sardou  —  that  very  Sar- 
dou against  whose  dramatic  precepts  Becque  carried 
on  a  merciless  warfare. 

This  man  might  have  been  popular.  He  was  Parisian 
born.  He  had  all  the  cleverness  and  knack  and  sophisti- 
cation necessary  to  make  him  a  brilliant  transient  on  the 
stage  of  Paris.    But  he  had  a  big  dream,  and  the  dream 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

was  to  make  the  stage  represent  the  marvellous  dra- 
matic commonplaces  of  every-day  life.  He  saw  that 
the  sentimental  nonsense  with  which  the  public  was  be- 
ing regaled  —  high-class  nonsense  though  some  of  it 
might  be  —  represented  a  very  small  corner  of  Life, 
if  it  represented  Life  at  all.  The  reaction  of  Becque's 
mind  against  the  glorification  of  sentimental  impossi- 
bilities was  terrific.  He  conceived  the  idea  of  a  "  cruel 
theatre,"  in  which  truth  should  go  defiantly  bare;  in 
which  the  characters  should  act  like  human  beings  in- 
stead of  wire-worked  puppets  ;  in  which  the  action 
should  be  the  logical  course  of  workday  events,  without 
the  introduction  of  spurious  material  to  keep  the  audi- 
ence mystified  or  good-humored.  In  our  day  this  is 
an  old  story.  The  tide  turned  against  old-school  ro- 
manticism long  ago,  and  we  have  our  realism  so  refined 
that  it  often  has  less  dramatic  action  than  Life  itself. 
If  Becque  had  fallen  into  this  trap  —  of  being  dull  — 
that  would  have  been  the  end  of  him.  But  he  happened 
to  be  a  master  of  stagecraft  ;  and  he  knew  how  to 
manipulate  the  surprises  of  every-day  existence,  how  to 
reproduce  them  with  telling  effect,  how  to  tell  a  pre- 
cise story  so  that  the  narration  would  be  clear  with- 
out being  obvious.  He  had  also  an  almost  incredible 
persistence  and  faith  in  himself.  He  was  a  tireless 
worker.  And  he  had  some  good  friends.  So  he  was 
permitted  to  drive  the  wedge  that  opened  the  way  for 
realism.  Becque's  followers  were  many.  More  than 
one  of  them  excelled  the  master  in  certain  details,  as 
was  to  be  expected.  They  were  not  pioneering.  They 
had  a  trail  already  blazed.  It  required  a  brutal 
strength  like  Becque's  to  knock  over  the  idols  of 
romance. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

When  Henry  Becque  first  came  knocking  at  the  stage 
door,  it  was  with  an  opera  in  three  acts,  "  Sardana- 
pale,"  an  avowed  imitation  of  Lord  Byron.  With  music 
by  Victorin  Joncières,  a  composer  of  merit,  it  was  pre- 
sented for  the  first  time  at  the  Theatre  Lyrique  early 
in  1867.     It  enjoyed  some  success. 

Following  the  opera  came  "  L'Enfant  Prodigue," 
produced  in  1868  at  the  Vaudeville.  The  freshness 
of  this  piece,  with  its  unconventionality,  its  deliber- 
ately wicked  and  sometimes  savage  thrusts,  combined 
with  real  wit  and  sprightliness,  puzzled  the  critics  a 
little.  The  dean  of  the  profession,  M.  Sarcey,  per- 
mitted himself  to  welcome  the  new  dramatic  author, 
and  to  praise  him  for  his  pleasant  frivolity.  M. 
Sarcey  wrote  rather  gingerly,  however.  He  evidently 
wanted  to  be  in  a  position  to  beat  a  quick  retreat. 
"  The  Prodigal  Son  "  is  certainly  not  great,  but  as 
a  reading  play  it  is  good  for  the  blues.  And  besides 
its  wit,  it  contains  at  least  one  unexpectedly  striking 
and  powerful  scene,  that  of  the  dinner  of  the  concierges. 
In  this  scene  Clarisse  sings  a  curious  street-girl  song, 
"  Les  Pauvr's  P'tit's  Femmes,"  of  exquisite  humanness 
and  pathos. 

Following  "  The  Prodigal  Son,"  it  was  to  be  ex- 
pected that  Becque,  taking  advantage  of  the  foothold 
his  vaudeville  had  given  him,  should  come  back  with 
some  joyous  comedy.  He  appeared  with  a  five-act 
drama,  "  Michel  Pauper,"  a  play  almost  barbarous  in 
its  brutality.  The  wonder  now  is,  not  that  it  was  not 
a  success,  but  that  it  was  ever  presented  at  all.  It 
must  have  seemed  mad  as  a  hatter  in  1870.  It  does, 
indeed,  at  this  distance,  seem  to  have  a  touch  of  mad- 
ness.     It   did  demonstrate   one   thing,   however:   that 


INTRODUCTION 


Becque  could  construct  a  play.     He  used  strange  ma- 
terials, he  sounded  uncanny  depths,  but  he  could  write. 

After  the  production  of  "  L'Enlèvement  "  in  1871 
—  a  mordant  comedy  of  provincial  domesticity  — 
Becque  had  nothing  produced  until  "  La  Navette,"  in 
1878.  This  one-act  comedy,  translated  in  the  present 
volume  under  the  title  "  The  Merry-Go-Round,"  is 
light,  malicious,  even  naughty  on  the  surface.  There 
is  much  under  the  surface.  Becque's  eyes  were  open 
in  the  seventies.     He  saw  a  lot  of  sham. 

"  Les  Honnêtes  Femmes,"  another  one-act  comedy, 
was  produced  in  1880,  and  then  Becque  was  at  last 
engaged  upon  more  enduring  stuff.  In  the  next  five 
years  were  produced  his  two  finished  masterpieces, 
"  Les  Corbeaux  "  and  "  La  Parisienne,"  and  a  begin- 
ning was  made  of  "  Les  Polichinelles,"  unfortunately 
left  undone  at  the  dramatist's  death. 

"  Les  Corbeaux  "  (translated  as  "  The  Vultures  "  in 
this  volume)  was  produced  in  1882  at  the  Comédie 
Française.  It  was  by  mere  chance  that  it  was  produced 
at  all.  Becque's  difficulty  was  no  longer  that  he  was 
unknown  ;  it  was  that  the  theatre-directors  knew  him 
only  too  well.  He  was  a  disturber  of  the  peace  of  mind 
of  quiet  folks  who  wanted  to  "  look  on  the  bright  side 
of  things."  He  was  the  kind  of  author  that  puts  out 
the  lights  at  theatres  in  mid-season.  Becque  peddled 
"  Les  Corbeaux  "  from  one  theatre  to  another.  It  was 
rejected  everywhere.  Finally  there  was  only  one  reput- 
able theatre  left,  and  that  was  the  greatest  of  them  all, 
the  Comédie  Française.  Becque  had  not  even  consid- 
ered the  possibility  of  getting  a  hearing  there.  But 
M.  Thierry  read  the  play,  and,  though  it  staggered 
him  a  little,  he  recognized  the  genius  in  it.     He  was 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

convinced  that  it  should  be  put  on.  He  was  no  longer 
at  the  head  of  the  Comédie  Française,  but  a  request 
from  him  would,  of  course,  be  gracefully  received  by  his 
successor,  Emile  Perrin.  In  tliis  least  promising  of 
ways,  "  Les  Corbeaux  "  had  its  first  presentation  at 
the  famous  theatre  on  September  14,  1882. 

"  Les  Corbeaux  "  was  not  a  play  calculated  to  make 
its  author  a  prime  favorite  among  the  run  of  play- 
goers. It  hurt  them.  It  assailed  one  of  the  darling 
institutions  of  the  country,  the  notarial  system.  "  You 
are  attacking,  offhand,  the  most  respectable  body  of 
men  I  know  of;  you  are  bringing  under  suspicion  the 
law  itself,"  says  Bourdon,  the  notary,  in  the  second  act 
of  the  play,  in  futile  reply  to  the  rude  insinuations  of 
the  architect  Lefort.  That  was  just  what  Becque  meant 
to  do  !  He  intended  to  reveal  the  possibilities  of  gross 
injustice,  fraud  and  graft  that  lay  within  the  hide- 
bound, parochial  and  bureaucratic  system  which  turned 
out  Bourdons,  and  then,  even  against  its  will,  felt  bound 
to  maintain  them. 

But  worse  even  than  his  cold-blooded  handling  of 
tender  subjects  in  particular,  was  Becque's  general  ex- 
altation of  the  bourgeois  viewpoint.  "  Exaltation  "  is 
a  strong  word,  but  it  must  have  been  a  terrible  blow, 
at  a  moment  when  the  stage  was  dedicated  to  the  de- 
piction of  chapters  from  the  lives  of  the  very  nicest 
of  people,  to  find  in  "  Les  Corbeaux  "  that  the  only 
representatives  of  "  an  old  family  "  were  a  vicious  wo- 
man, dead  broke  and  fortune-hunting,  and  her  inverte- 
brate son.  Then,  besides,  Becque's  stage  settings  were 
held  to  be  too  simple.  The  furnishings  had  been  con- 
stantly growing  more  elaborate  and  expensive,  and  it 
seems  that  the  arrangements  of  Becque  might  have  come 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

as  a  grateful  relief  to  the  theatre  directors.  It  was  not 
so.     They  did  n't  like  it.     It  looked  cheap. 

Becque's  social  ideas  were  surprisingly  "  advanced." 
He  sensed  the  wrongs  of  the  little  people,  the  under- 
dogs in  the  struggle  for  existence.  He  voiced  the  pro- 
test of  women  against  the  prejudice  that  kept  them 
from  earning  a  decent  livelihood  and  forced  them,  in 
one  direction,  to  parasitism,  and,  in  the  other  direc- 
tion, to  immorality. 

Poor  Mrs.  Vigneron!  So  helplessly  naive  and  im- 
practical was  she  that  she  could  imagine  herself  at  the 
head  of  her  late  husband's  factory.  Bourdon,  the  no- 
tary, disillusioned  her  on  that  point  :  "  Would  it  look 
well  for  a  woman  to  place  herself  at  the  head  of  a  large 
establishment?  " 

"  La  Parisienne,"  which  had  its  first  performance  in 
1885,  was  for  other  reasons  a  bitter  pill  to  the  public. 
Nobody  questioned  its  wit.  It  was  admitted  that  the 
diabolically  clever  dialogue  of  the  first  scene,  leading 
up  to  the  thunderbolt  discovery  of  the  audience  that 
Lafont  is  not  Clotilde^s  husband,  but  her  lover,  was 
alone  worth  the  price  of  admission.  But  the  critics, 
most  of  them,  thought  that  Becque  had  slandered  the 
Parisian  woman.  Someone  said  that  the  title  of  the 
play  should  be  changed  from  "  La  Parisienne  "  to 
"  Une  Parisienne  "  :  but  what  the  temper  of  the  time 
could  not  forgive  was  the  ruthlessness  with  which  Henry 
Becque  tore  the  veil  of  romance  from  illicit  love  — 
from  adultery,  if  you  please  —  and  put  it  on  the  pro- 
saic basis  of  every-day  marriage.  That  was  too  much. 
However,  as  Mr.  James  Huneker  remarks  in  his  de- 
lightful essay  on  Becque,  the  conventional  naughty  tri- 
angle of  the  French  theatre,  after  the  presentation  of 
"  La  Parisienne,"  was  done  forever. 


INTRODUCTION 


"  La  Parisienne  "  was  Becque's  last  play.  At  the 
time  of  his  death  he  was  at  work  upon  "  Les  Polichi- 
nelles," a  play  even  more  militant  in  its  social  ideas 
than  the  others.  But  though  there  is  reason  for  regret 
that  Becque's  work  was  cut  short,  it  is  certain  that  with 
his  three  volumes  of  plays  he  had  performed  his  special 
mission.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  when  Ibsen 
came  upon  the  field  with  his  great  dramas,  he  had  a 
decided  advantage  in  his  struggle  from  taking  posses- 
sion of  the  breastworks  thrown  up  and  manned  by 
Henry  Becque. 


A    CHRONOLOGICAL    LIST    OF    PLAYS 
BY    HENRY    BECQUE 

Sardanapalus  (Sardanapale),  1867; 

The   Prodigal    Son  (L'Enfant  Prodigue),  1868; 

Michel  Pauper,  1870; 

The   Elopement  (L'Enlèvement),  1871; 

The  Merry-Go-Round  (La  Navette),  1879; 

Women   of   Virtue  (Les  Honnêtes  Femmes),  1880; 

The   Vultures  (Les  Corbeaux),  1882; 

The   Woman   of   Paris  (La  Parisienne),  1885; 

The  Puppets  (Les  Polichinelles),  unfinished; 

The  Start  (Le  Départ)  ; 

Madeleine  ; 

Widowed  (Veuve)  ; 

A  Four-Handed  Game  (Le  Domino  à  Quatre)  ; 

An  Execution  (Une  Execution). 


THE    VULTURES 

(Les  Corbeaux) 

a  drama  in  four  acts 

1882 


PERSONS 

Vigneron A  manufacturer 

Teissier 

Formerly  a  stnall  hanker,  now  Vigneron's  partner 

Bourdon         A  lawyer 

Merckens       A  music-teacher 

Lefort An  architect 

Dupuis        A  dealer  in  house  furnishings 

Gaston Vigneron's  son 

Auguste 

A  Doctor 

George  de  Saint-Genis 

Lenormand 

General  Fromentin 

Mrs.  Vigneron 

Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis 

Marie       ] 

Blanche  \  Vigneron's  daughters 

Judith      J  , 

Rosalie 

The  action  takes  place  at  Paris  in  our  own  day. 


THE  VULTURES 


THE    FIRST    ACT 

A  luxuriously/  furnished  drawijig-room.  There  are 
three  double  doors  at  the  rear,  and  double  doors  on  the 
sides.  At  the  right,  in  the  foreground,  there  is  a  piano; 
and  at  the  left,  against  the  wall,  a  writing-table.  Be- 
hind this  writing-table  is  a  fireplace.  At  the  rear,  on 
the  right,  a  table;  at  the  left,  in  the  foreground,  a 
cou£h.     Other  furniture,  mirrors,  flowers,  etc. 

When  the  curtain  rises.  Vigneron  is  seen  asleep  on  the 
couch.  He  is  in  a  dressing-gown,  and  has  a  newspaper 
in  his  hands.  Marie,  seated  near  him,  is  engaged  in 
needle-work.  Judith  is  at  the  piano.  Blanche  is  writ- 
ing at  the  table. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Don't  play  any  more,  Judith  ;   your  father  is  asleep. 
{Going  over  to  the  table)    Blanche. 

BLANCHE 

Yes,  mama. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Is  it  finished.'' 

BLANCHE 

Just  one  minute. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Have  you  gone  over  them?     How  many  will  there  be 
at  table? 


4  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

BLANCHE 

Sixteen. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

That 's  good.     {She  brings  a  chair  and  sits  down  be- 
side Blanche) 

BLANCHE 

Do  you  think  the  dinner  will  be  any  better  for  putting 
a  menu  at  each  plate  .f* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

It  won't  be  any  the  worse  for  it,  anyhow. 

BLANCHE 

What  a  queer  custom  !     But  are  you  quite  sure  it  is 
the  proper  thing? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Absolutely  sure.     I  saw  it  in  the  Ladies'  Home  Com- 
panion. 

BLANCHE 

Shall  we  run  over  the  places  together.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Let's  go  over  the  list  first.     Mrs.  Saint-Genis? 

BLANCHE 

I  've  got  her  down. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Her  son.'' 

BLANCHE 

You  need  n't  be  afraid  of  my  forgetting  him. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Father  Mouton.? 

BLANCHE 

The  dear  old  man!     He  baptized  me,  and  confirmed 
me  —  and  now  he  is  going  to  marry  me. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  5 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

If  you  are  going  to  gossip  about  every  name  we 
come  to,  we  won't  be  through  by  next  week.  Mr. 
Teissier.'' 

BLANCHE 

I  've  got  him  down.    I  could  get  along  very  well  with- 
out him,  though. 
VIGNERON  (waking) 

What 's  that  I  hear?  Is  Miss  Blanche  giving  orders 
in  my  house.'' 

BLANCHE 

Goodness,  yes,  papa  ;  it  's  little  Blanche. 

VIGNERON 

And  may  we  know  what  Mr.  Teissier  has  done  to  you, 
miss  ?  % 

BLANCHE 

To  me?  Nothing.  But  he  is  old,  and  ugly,  and 
boorish,  and  a  miser.  And  he  never  looks  anybody 
in  the  face  ;  that 's  reason  enough  why  I  don't  like 
him  around  me. 

VIGNERON 

Fine!  Bully!  I'll  fix  things  all  right.  Mrs. 
Vigneron,  you  need  n't  save  a  place  at  the  table  for 
this  young  lady.  She  is  going  to  have  dinner  in  her 
room. 

BLANCHE 

You  '11  be  saying  soon  that  the  wedding  will  go  ahead 
without  me. 

VIGNERON 

If  you  say  another  word,  you  shan't  be  married  — 
Oh!    {A  pause) 


6  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

MARIE  (rising) 

Listen,  daddy  dear,  and  give  me  a  serious  answer  — 
which  you  never  do  when  anybody  speaks  to  you 
about  your  health.     How  do  you  feeLf" 

VIGNERON 

Oh,  not  bad. 

MARIE 

But  your  face  is  red. 

VIGNERON 

Red  !     That  '11  go  away  as  soon  as  I  get  outdoors. 

MARIE 

If  your  dizziness  comes  back,  we  shall  have  to  call 
in  a  doctor. 

VIGNERON 

A  doctor!     Do  you  want  me  to  die.'' 

MARIE 

You  know  that  kind  of  joking  hurts  me.  We  won't 
talk  any  more  about  it.  (She  starts  away,  and  he 
catches  her  hy  the  bottom  of  her  gown  and  pulls  her 
down  into  his  arms) 

VIGNERON 

Does  she  love  her  old  daddy  .»* 

MARIE 

I  love  you  so,  so,  so  much  .  .  .  but  you  doa't  do 
a  thing  I  want  you  to,  or  a  thing  you  should  do. 
Why  don't  you  work  less,  get  some  fun  out  of  your 
money,  and  look  out  for  yourself  when  you  are  sick.? 

VIGNERON 

But  I  am  not  sick,  little  girl.  I  know  what 's  the 
matter  with  me.  I  'm  a  bit  tired,  and  there  's  too 
much  blood  in  my  head.  It 's  just  the  same  every 
year  about  this  time,  after  I  have  finished  taking 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  7 

inventory.  The  inventory  of  the  house  of  Teissier, 
Vigneron  and  Company  !  Do  you  know  what  Teissier 
and  I  were  offered  for  our  factory,  only  a  week 
ago  ?     Six  hundred  thousand  francs  ! 

MARIE 

V^ell,  sell  it. 

VIGNERON 

Ten  years  from  now,  I  am  going  to  sell  for  a  million. 
And  in  the  meantime  it  will  bring  us  in  that  much. 

MARIE 

How  old  will  you  be  then? 

VIGNERON 

How  old?  Ten  years  from  now?  I  shall  be  just 
the  age  of  my  grandchildren  ;  and  we  shall  have  fine 
times  together.  {Auguste  enters)  W^hat  is  it, 
Auguste  ? 

AUGUSTE 

Your  architect,  sir.    He  wants  only  a  word  with  you. 

VIGNERON 

Tell  Mr.  Lefort  if  he  wants  to  speak  to  me  he  should 
see  me  at  the  factory. 

AUGUSTE 

He  has  just  come  from  there,  sir. 

VIGNERON 

Let  him  go  back  there.  I  am  at  home  here,  with  my 
wife  and  children,  and  I  shan't  be  bothered  by  my 
contractors.  {Auguste  goes  out)  Let  me  get  up. 
(Marie  steps  aside;  Vigneron  rises  with  an  effort; 
then  he  is  seized  with  dizziness  and  walks  a  few  steps 
unsteadily) 
MARIE  {returning  to  him) 

Why  won't  you  see  a  doctor? 


8  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

VIGNERON 

Is  n't  that  question  settled? 

MARIE 

No  ;  it  is  not  settled.  There  's  no  use  talking  —  you 
are  not  well,  and  it  makes  me  uneasy.  Take  care  of 
yourself;  do  something;  perhaps  a  little  dieting 
for  seven  or  eight  days  would  make  you  all  right 
again. 

VIGNERON 

Sly  puss  !  I  see  through  you  and  your  little  dieting. 
I  eat  too  much,  eh?  Come,  speak  right  out;  I  don't 
mind.  I  eat  too  much.  Well,  little  girl,  what  do 
you  expect?  I  have  n't  always  had  a  table  full  of 
good  things.  Ask  your  mother;  she  will  tell  you 
that  when  we  began  keeping  house  I  went  to  bed 
many  a  time  without  my  supper.  Now  I  'm  making 
up  for  it.  It 's  stupid,  beastly,  it  hurts  me,  but  I 
can't  resist  the  temptation.  (Leaving  Marie)  And 
then,  I  suppose  I  should  n't  read  the  newspaper  after 
luncheon;  it  hurts  my  digestion.  (He  crumples  up 
the  newspaper  and  going  back  to  the  couch  throws 
himself  upon  it;  then  his  glance  falls  upon  Judith, 
who,  seated  at  the  piano,  her  back  turned  to  her 
father,  is  in  a  broxrni  study;  he  tiptoes  over  to  her 
and  shouts  im  her  ear)     Judith  ! 

JUDITH 

Oh,  father,  you  know  I  don't  like  such  jokes  ! 

VIGNERON 

Don't  be  angry,  missy,  I  won't  do  it  again.  Judith, 
tell  me  something  about  what 's  going  on  —  in  the 
moon. 

JUDITH 

Now  make  fun  of  me. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  9 

VIGNERON 

How  do  you  make  that  out?  I  have  a  daughter 
named  Judith.  Is  she  here?  Is  she  somewhere  else? 
How  can  I  know?    We  never  hear  from  her. 

JUDITH 

I  have  n't  anything  to  say. 

VIGNERON 

That  does  n't  bother  most  people. 

JUDITH 

What  fun  is  there  in  teasing  me  all  the  time  about 
it?     I  see  you,  hear  you,  love  you,  and  I  am  happy. 

VIGNERON 

Are  you  happy? 

JUDITH 

Quite. 

VIGNERON 

Well,  then,  little  girl,  you  're  right  and  I  'm  wrong. 
Have  you  got  a  kiss  for  me? 

JUDITH  (rising) 

Have  I?  A  hundred  of  them,  daddy.  {They  em- 
brace;   Auguste  enters) 

VIGNERON 

Now  what  is  it?  I  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  kiss  my 
children  in  peace,  nowadays. 

AUGUSTE 

Mr.  Dupuis,  sir. 

VIGNERON 

Dupuis?  Dupuis,  the  house  furnisher?  What  does 
he  want?    I  settled  his  bill  long  ago. 

AUGUSTE 

Mr.  Dupuis  stopped  in  to  see  if  you  wished  anything, 
sir. 


10  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

VIGNERON 

Tell  Mr.  Dupuis  for  me  that  I  don't  buy  twice  of  a 
swindler  like  him.  Go  ahead.  {Auguste  goes  out; 
Vigneron  walks  over  to  the  table)  Well,  what  have 
you  got  your  heads  together  about.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Let  us  alone,  that 's  a  dear.  We  're  busy  with  this 
evening's  dinner. 

VIGNERON 

Oh  !  —  Come  and  let  me  whisper  just  a  few  words  in 
your  ear.  (Mrs.  Vigneron  rises  and  joins  her  hus- 
band at  the  front  of  the  stage)  So  it 's  all  settled 
that  we  are  going  to  marry  our  daughter  to  that 
popinjay? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Did  you  interrupt  me  just  to  say  that.'' 

VIGNERON 

Now  listen:  I  haven't  any  prejudice  against  this 
marriage.  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  impresses  me  as  a 
first-rate  woman.  It  is  n't  her  fault  if  she  has  n't  a 
cent.  Her  son  is  a  lovely  little  boy,  very  pleasant 
and  polite,  and  he  certainly  does  curl  his  hair  nicely. 
For  a  long  while,  now,  I  've  hardly  been  able  to  keep 
from  telling  him  that  he  uses  too  much  hair-oil.  His 
government  job  carries  a  good  salary  with  it,  for  a 
chap  of  his  age.  But  at  the  last  moment,  I  can't  help 
wondering  whether  this  marriage  is  well-advised,  and 
whether  Blanche  will  be  really  happy  with  that  young 
fellow,  even  if  he  does  belong  to  one  of  the  oldest 
families. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

But  Blanche  is  crazy  about  him. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  11 

VIGNERON 

Blanche  is  only  a  child.  It 's  easy  to  see  that  the 
first  young  fellow  she  met  turned  her  head. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  have  you  got  up  your  sleeve.''  What's  the 
use  of  talking  that  way  about  a  marriage  which  is 
done  and  over  with,  one  might  say.''  You  aren't 
reproaching  me,  are  you,  with  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis' 
financial  position.''  Ours  wasn't  always  what  it  is 
now.  Then  what  are  you  complaining  of.''  Because 
George  is  a  good-looking  young  fellow,  well  brought 
up,  and  of  a  good  family.''  If  he  comes  from  one 
of  the  best  families,  so  much  the  better  for  him. 

VIGNERON 

It  flatters  you  to  have  a  son-in-law  from  one  of  the 
oldest  families. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Yes,  I  admit  it  does  flatter  me  ;  but  I  would  n't 
sacrifice  one  of  my  girls  to  mere  vanity.  (Coming 
nearer  and  speaking  in  a  lower  tone)  Do  you  want 
me  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth?  It  is  true  that 
Blanche  is  a  child,  as  modest  and  innocent  —  the 
dear  little  girl  —  as  can  be  ;  but  her  feelings  are 
unusually  powerful  for  a  girl  of  her  age,  and  we 
shan't  regret  having  her  married  early.  And  then, 
our  friend.  Father  Mouton,  who  has  known  us  twenty 
years,  would  n't  interest  himself  in  the  marriage  if 
it  were  not  for  the  best  all  around. 

VIGNERON 

Who  said  he  would.''  But  no  matter,  we  are  going 
ahead  too  fast.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  n't  a  priest's 
business  to  make  matches.  And  then,  I  'd  like  to 
have  you  tell  me  how  it  is  that  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis 


12  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

—  who  has  n't  a  cent,  I  repeat  —  has  such  good 
connections.  I  thought  that  her  son's  witnesses 
would  be  commonplace  people  ;  gracious,  she 's 
found  some  smarter  than  our  own  !  A  high  govern- 
ment official  and  a  general!  The  government  official 
I  can  account  for  —  George  works  in  his  office  —  but 
the  general! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What 's  that?  Oh,  the  general?  Surely,  you  know 
that  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis  was  a  captain  in  the  army. 
Run  along  to  your  work,  dear.  (She  turns  away 
from  him)  Blanche,  give  your  father  his  coat.  (She 
goes  out  at  the  right,  leaving  the  door  open  behind 
her) 
VIGNERON  (  taking  off  his  dressing-gown  and  putting  on 
the  coat  brought  by  Blanche)  So  here  you  are,  you 
ingrate  I 

BLANCHE 

Ingrate  !    Why  do  you  call  me  that  ? 

VIGNERON 

Why?  Now  that  we  are  rich,  and  are  going  to  let 
you  be  married,  and  give  you  a  dowry,  why  should  n't 
we  marry  you  to  Mr.  Teissier? 

BLANCHE 

No,  papa. 

VIGNERON 

"  No,  papa."  Why  not?  I  reckon  it 's  Teissier  and 
his  factory  that  have  made  me  what  I  am. 

BLANCHE 

You  mean  that  you  have  made  Mr.  Teissier's  factory 
what  it  is.  Without  you,  it  would  have  cost  him 
money  enough  ;    with  you,  heaven  only  knows  how 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  13 

much  money  it  has  brought  him  in.  Now  see  here, 
papa,  if  Mr.  Teissier  were  anybody  else  —  if  he  were 
a  fair  man  —  here  is  what  he  would  say,  after  all  the 
work  you  have  done  and  the  pains  you  have  taken: 
This  factory  first  belonged  to  me;  then  it  belonged 
to  both  of  us  ;   now  it  belongs  to  you. 

VIGNERON 

Her  kind  little  heart  puts  sentiment  into  everything. 
It 's   a   good   thing  to   have   sentiment,   but   not   to 
count  too  much  on  other  people  's  having  it.     (^He 
kisses  her) 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (entering) 
What,  are  you  still  here? 

VIGNERON 

Answer  this  question:  Am  I  under  obligations  to 
Teissier,  or  is  Teissier  under  obligations  to  me.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Neither. 

VIGNERON 

How  is  that.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Do  you  really  want  me  to  go  all  over  that  story 
again  ? 

VIGNERON 

Yes. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Well,  children,  Mr.  Teissier  was  a  banker  in  a  small 
way,  on  the  street  where  we  used  to  live.  We  knew 
him,  and  yet  we  did  n't.  We  had  been  under  obliga- 
tions to  him  at  certain  times  when  we  were  in  need, 
and  he  had  taken  our  note  without  much  hesitation, 
because  our  reputation  was  good.     Later  on,  in  the 


14  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

course  of  his  business,  he  found  that  he  had  a  factory 
on  his  hands.  He  remembered  your  father  and 
offered  him  the  management,  but  with  a  salary.  At 
that  time  we  were  getting  along  pretty  well;  your 
father  had  a  good  position  with  a  good  business 
house,  and  the  wisest  thing  to  do  was  to  keep  it. 
Fifteen  months  passed.  We  had  thought  nothing 
more  of  it  for  a  long  time,  when  one  evening  at 
exactly  half-past  nine  —  I  remember  the  hour  — 
when  your  father  and  I  were  looking  through  the 
door  that  led  into  your  room,  and  watching  you  as 
you  lay  asleep,  somebody  rang.  It  was  Mr.  Teissier, 
and  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  climbed  the  five 
flights  to  our  floor.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  at 
last.  The  truth  was,  his  works  were  not  working, 
and  he  came  to  ask  your  father  to  come  to  his  as- 
sistance by  joining  forces  with  him.  Your  father 
thanked  him  politely  and  asked  him  to  wait  till  the 
following  day  for  an  answer.  As  soon  as  Mr.  Teissier 
had  gone,  your  father  said  to  me  —  now  listen  to 
this  —  your  father  said  to  me  :  "  Here  is  an  oppor- 
tunity, my  dear.  It  comes  rather  late,  and  just  when 
we  are  beginning  to  take  things  easy.  It 's  going  to 
be  a  lot  of  work  for  me,  and  you  will  always  be  in 
a  state  of  terror  until  I  make  a  go  of  it  —  if  I  do 
make  a  go  of  it  !  But  we  have  four  children,  and  per- 
haps this  is  their  chance."  (She  weeps  and  clutches 
her  husband's  hand;  the  children  gather  around  them, 
amid  general  emotion)  To  come  back  to  the  ques- 
tion you  asked,  it  seems  to  me  easily  answered.  Mr. 
Teissier  and  Mr.  Vigneron  went  into  business  to- 
gether. It  was  a  good  thing  for  both  of  them,  and 
they  are  quits. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  15 

VIGNERON 

There,  children!  Doesn't  jour  mother  tell  it  well? 
Pattern  after  this  woman,  measure  up  to  her  stand- 
ard, and  nothing  more  can  be  expected  of  you.  {He 
kisses  his  wife) 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

You  do  it  beautifully,  but  it  is  n't  natural  to  you, 
my  dear.     Do  you  feel  ill? 

VIGNERON 

No,  sweetheart;  on  the  contrary,  I  feel  better.  I 
believe  I  have  wholly  recovered.  Now  I  am  going  to 
ask  Miss  Judith,  the  grrreat  musician  of  the  family, 
to  play  me  something,  and  then  I  '11  relieve  you  of 
my  company. 

JUDITH 

What  do  you  want  me  to  play?    II  Trovatoref 

VIGNERON 

Find  II  Trovatore.  (  To  Blanche)  That 's  fine,  that 
Trovatore  piece.     Is  it  by  Rossini? 

BLANCHE 

No  ;    Verdi. 

VIGNERON 

Oh,  Verdi,  the  author  of  the  Huguenots. 

BLANCHE 

No  ;   the  Huguenots  was  written  by  Meyerbeer. 

VIGNERON 

That 's  so.  The  great  Meyerbeer.  How  old  is 
Meyerbeer,  now? 

BLANCHE 

He  's  dead. 

VIGNERON 

VV^hat?  My  goodness,  did  he  die  without  my  knowing 
it?      {To   Judith)      Can't   you   find  II   Trovatore? 


16  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

Never  mind,  don't  take  the  trouble  to  look  for  it. 
Listen;  play  me  —  just  play  me  —  La  Dame 
Blanche. 

JUDITH 

I  don't  know  it. 

VIGNERON 

You  don't  know  La  Dame  Blanche?  Say  that  again. 
You  don't  know  — ■  ?  What  's  the  good,  then,  of  the 
lessons  I  'm  having  you  take  at  ten  francs  an  hour? 
What  does  your  music-teacher  teach  you?  Tell  me, 
now,  what  does  he  teach  you  ? 

JUDITH 

He  teaches  me  music. 

VIGNERON 

Well?    Is  n't  La  Dame  Blanche  music? 
MARIE  {leading  Judith  to  the  piano)    Come,  big  sister, 
play  daddy  what  he  wants  to  hear.    {Judith  seats  her- 
self at  the  piano  and  begins  the  famous  selection) 
"  From  here  behold  that  fair  domain 
Whose  lofty  turrets  touch  the  sky; 
A  strange  and  spectral  chatelaine 
Guards  that  old  castle  ceaselessly. 
Perfidious  and  faithless  knight 
Weaving  your  plots  of  shame  and  spite, 

Take  care  ! 
La  Dame  Blanche  sees  you  there. 
She  hears  —  the  woman  in  white  !  ^ 

^  Translated  by  Allan  Updegraff.     The  original  is  as  follows: 

D'ici  voyez  ce  beau  domaine 
Dont  les  créneaux  touchant  le  ciel; 
Une  invisible  châtelaine 
Veille  en  tout  temps  sur  ce  castel. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  17 

[Vigneron  begins  to  sing,  then  his  zeife  joins  him, 
then  his  daughters  follow  suit;  half-way  through  the 
verse  Gaston  enters,  having  first  stuck  his  head  in  at 
one  of  the  rear  doors.  Then  Gaston  goes  to  the  fire- 
place, takes  the  shovel  and  tongs,  and  contributes  to 
the  hubbub. 
VIGNERON  {going  toward  his  son,  when  the  verse  is 
sung)  Where  did  you  come  from,  you  young  rascal? 
Why  were  n't  you  at  luncheon  with  us  ? 

GASTON 

I  lunched  with  one  of  my  friends. 

VIGNERON 

What 's  that  friend's  name? 

GASTON 

You  don't  know  him. 

VIGNERON 

I  know  well  enough  that  I  don't  know  him.  Stand 
there  while  I  have  a  look  at  you.  {He  draws  off  a 
few  steps,  the  better  to  survey  his  son,  Gaston  still 
has  the  shovel  and  tongs  in  his  hands.  Vigneron 
takes  them  away  and  puts  them  back  in  their  place; 
then  he  goes  back  toward  his  son  and  regards  him 
tenderly)  Stand  up  straight  !  {He  goes  over  to  him 
and  strokes  his  hair)  Show  me  your  tongue  !  Good  ! 
Put  it  out  a  little  farther.  Farther  than  that. 
That 's  all  right.  {In  a  low  tone)  I  hope  you  're 
not  tiring  yourself  out  too  much. 


Chevalier  félon  et  méchant 
Qui  tramez  complot  malfaisant. 

Prenez  garde! 
La  dame  blanche  vous  regarde, 
La  dame  blanche  vous  entend! 


18  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

GASTON 

Doing  what,  dad?     I  have  n't  been  doing  anything. 

VIGNERON 

Now  you  're  talking  nonsense.  When  I  said  "  You  're 
not  tiring  yourself  out  too  much,"  I  knew  what  I 
meant,  and  so  did  you,  you  scamp.  Do  you  need  any 
money  ? 

GASTON 

No. 

VIGNERON 

Open  your  hand. 

GASTON 

What 's  the  use  ? 
VIGNERON  {specbhing  louder) 
Open  your  hand. 

GASTON 

I  don't  want  to. 

VIGNERON 

Papa  Vigneron  brought  this  boy  up,  so  he  did  ! 
Here,  put  this  money  in  your  pocket,  and  be  quick 
about  it  !  Have  a  good  time,  kid  —  I  want  you  to 
have  the  best  kind  of  a  time.  Cut  loose  and  raise  the 
dickens.  But  remember  —  away  from  here  you  are 
your  own  boss  —  but  here,  among  your  sisters,  mind 
how  you  act  !  Be  careful  what  you  say  ;  and  above 
all,  no  mushy  letters  !  If  you  want  to  confide  in  any- 
body, I  'm  the  one. 

JUDITH 

We  're  waiting  for  you  to  join  in  the  second  verse, 
dad. 
VIGNERON  (looking  at  his  watch) 

You  '11  have  to  sing  the  second  verse  without  me. 
(He  takes  his  hat  and  goes  toward  the  door.     Then, 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  19 

pausing  and  looking  around  at  his  family,  he  comes 
back  like  a  man  who  is  happy  where  he  is,  and  does 
not  want  to  go  away)  Come  here  a  minute,  old  lady  ! 
i^Mrs.  Vigneron  comes  over  to  him,  and  he  puts  one 
arm  under  hers)  Judith,  get  up!  {He  does  the 
same  to  Judith)  Come  here,  you  other  girls  !  If  I 
had  my  own  way,  dearies,  I  'd  get  back  into  my 
dressing-gown  and  stay  here  until  dinner  time.  But 
unfortunately  my  work  won't  do  itself  ;  and  I  have  n't 
money  enough  yet  to  live  without  working.  Perhaps 
I  shall  have  some  day,  when  I  am  the  owner  of  the 
factory.  But  I  must  wait  for  two  things  —  till  my 
new  buildings  are  finished,  and  until  my  children  are 
provided  for.  Who  could  have  thought  that  this 
little  minx  Blanche,  the  youngest  of  you,  would  be 
the  first  to  get  married?  Whose  turn  is  it  next.? 
Judith.''  Oh,  Judith  is  a  young  lady  hard  to  please. 
Unless  she  meets  a  prince,  she  '11  die  an  old  maid. 
Well,  then,  let  some  prince  come  along,  and  I  '11  buy 
him  for  her.  As  for  you,  you  young  scamp,  stand- 
ing over  there  laughing  while  I  am  talking  —  you 
can  have  your  fling,  but  it  won't  be  for  long.  Some 
fine  day  I  'm  going  to  take  you  to  work  with  me,  and 
you  are  going  to  start  in  by  sweeping  the  factory, 
from  top  to  bottom  —  until  I  make  an  errand  boy 
of  you.  After  that  we  '11  see  whether  you  are  good 
for  anything.  Of  you  all,  I  'm  the  least  worried 
about  Marie.  She  is  n't  a  dreamer  {looking  at 
Judith)  like  you;  nor  a  sentimentalist  {looking  at 
Blanche)  like  you.  She  '11  marry  some  good  fellow, 
some  healthy  chap,  a  hard  worker  and  tough  as  a 
knot,  who  will  make  you  think  of  your  father  when 
he's  not  here  any  more.     {To  his  wife)     I  haven't 


20  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

mentioned  you,  sweetheart,  because  at  our  age,  we 
don't  have  any  great  longings  or  needs.  We  're 
happy  if  the  kids  are  happy.  I  don't  think  these 
children  of  ours  would  have  been  any  happier  any- 
where else.  Well,  and  what  next.?  Just  let  the  old 
man  put  in  a  few  more  years  to  ensure  the  future 
of  this  little  family,  and  then  he  '11  have  earned  the 
right  to  take  a  rest.     Now,  then,  I  'm  off  ! 

THE    CHILDREN 

Good-bye,  papa.  Kiss  me.  Good-bye.  (^Vigneron 
escapes  frojn  them  and  goes  out  quickly) 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Now,  girls,  get  yourselves  ready.  {To  Blanche)  I 
want  you  to  wait  a  minute  ;  I  've  got  something  to 
say  to  you.  (To  Marie)  Look  in  at  the  kitchen, 
dear,  and  tell  Rosalie  to  be  sure  not  to  keep  us  wait- 
ing; hurry  her  up  a  little.  Rosalie  is  very  fond  of 
us,  but  she  's  always  late  with  dinner.  Gaston,  let 
your  sister  go  to  her  room  —  you  can  take  your 
music  lesson  some  other  time.  (^There  is  a  hustle 
and  bustle  as  all  the  children  except  Blanche  go  out) 
Now  pay  attention,  dearie  ;  I  have  n't  time  to  talk 
much.  I  want  you  to  make  use  of  what  I  'm  going 
to  tell  you;  and  don't  interrupt  me.  I  don't  like 
the  way  you  conduct  yourself  when  your  future  hus- 
band is  here.  You  look  at  him  too  much;  when  he 
gets  up,  you  get  up  ;  you  get  into  little  corners  to 
do  your  talking.  I  don't  like  those  things  ;  and  to- 
day, when  we  have  visitors,  I  should  like  it  less  than 
ever.  If  you  admire  George,  and  if  you  love  each 
other,  so  much  the  better,  since  you  are  going  to  be 
married  —  but  you  are  not  married  yet.  Until  you 
are,  I  want  you  to  be  more  careful,  and  I  want  you 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  21 

to  keep  your  feelings  to  yourself,  as  a  nice  girl 
should  do.  There  's  no  sense  in  crying  about  it  ! 
It 's  all  said  and  done.  Now  dry  your  eyes,  give 
me  a  kiss,  and  go  and  get  yourself  ready.  {Blanche 
leaves  her  mother  and  is  going  out  at  the  door  when 
Auguste  enters  at  the  rear  and  announces  Mrs.  de 
Saint-Genis;    Blanche  pauses)     Go  and  get  ready! 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

How  do  you  do,  dear.  Come,  kiss  me.  It 's  not  only 
the  style,  it 's  a  perfect  mania  now,  for  people  to 
kiss  every  five  minutes.  I  'm  here  early,  but  don't 
let  me  disturb  you.  If  I  bother  you  the  least  bit, 
just  say  so.     I  '11  stay  or  go,  just  as  you  please. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Oh,  stay,  by  all  means. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Perhaps  you  have  calls  to  make.^* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Not  one. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Then  maybe  you  expect  to  receive  some.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

No. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Shall  I  take  off  my  hat.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

If  you  don't  I  '11  put  mine  on. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

It  is  n't  often  nowadays,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  that  one 
finds  a  woman  like  you  —  a  woman  who  can  be  seen 
any  time.  I  would  n't  want  to  risk  such  a  thing  with 
some  of  my  most  intimate  friends. 


22  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Sit  down  and  tell  me  how  you  feel. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

I  'm  well  ;  quite  well.  I  don't  remember  ever  feeling 
better.  I  was  saying  this  morning,  at  my  toilet, 
that  I  had  got  back  my  color  and  figure. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

There  is  a  question  I  've  been  wanting  to  ask  you, 
ever  so  long.  It  should  n't  make  any  difference  be- 
tween us.     How  old  are  you.f^ 

MRS.     DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Why,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  I  never  try  to  hide  my  age. 
Even  if  I  wanted  to,  I  could  n't  ;  on  account  of  my 
son.  He  will  be  twenty-three  years  old  in  a  few 
days  ;  I  was  seventeen  when  he  was  born  ;  you  can 
figure  it  out. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Then  you  don't  mind  my  curiosity? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

It  is  quite  natural,  between  two  old  women. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

You  know  we  are  two  rash  mothers  —  you,  in  letting 
your  son  marry  so  young,  at  twenty-three,  and  I  in 
letting  my  daughter  marry  him  ! 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Don't  worry  about  that,  my  dear.  George  has 
obeyed  me  so  far,  and  I  certainly  count  on  keeping 
him  straight  after  he  is  married.  I  have  brought 
up  my  son  very  strictly,  as  I  think  I  have  already 
told  you,  and  there  are  few  children  like  him.  He 
has  never  gone  into  debt;  and  what  is  just  as  un- 
usual,  he   has   never   frittered   away   his    time   with 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  23 

women.  All  the  same,  I  know  some  women  who 
would  n't  have  asked  anything  better.  My  son  has 
had  a  very  thorough  education;  he  speaks  three 
languages,  he  plays,  he  bears  a  good  name,  has  good 
manners  and  religious  principles.  So,  with  all  that, 
he  won't  go  far  wrong,  unless  the  world  changes  a 
good  deal.  {Changing  her  tone)  Tell  me,  now  that 
we  are  talking  about  George,  and  since  I  am  looking 
out  for  his  interest,  does  your  husband  know  that  I 
asked  my  lawyer  to  rectify  an  omission  in  the  mar- 
riage contract.^ 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  can't  say  as  to  that. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

You  remember  that  Mr.  Vigneron,  after  having  fixed 
Blanche's  marriage  portion  at  two  hundred  thousand 
francs,  asked  us  to  let  him  pay  it  in  the  form  of  an 
annuity. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

That 's  not  so,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis.  From  the  very 
first  my  husband  said  that  he  wanted  time  to  settle 
his  daughter's  dowry.  It  was  then  that  you  spoke 
of  some  guarantee,  a  mortgage  on  the  buildings  under 
construction  ;  and  he  refused  to  do  that.  Finally, 
the  amount  and  the  time  of  payment  was  fully  agreed 
upon. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Very  well.  It  seemed  to  me  only  natural  and  fair 
that  until  the  young  couple  come  into  the  whole  sum, 
it  should  pay  them  interest  of  five  or  six  per  cent  — 
say,  six  per  cent.  However,  in  making  out  the  con- 
tract Mr.  Vigneron  showed  such  kind  spirit  toward 


24  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

all  my  little  whims,  that  there  will  be  no  trouble  be- 
tween us.  Let  us  talk  about  something  else.  Your 
dinner,  for  instance.  Are  you  going  to  have  many 
here  ? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

There  are  your  witnesses,  and  ours,  and  my  eldest 
daughter's  music-teacher  — 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Oh,  you  have  invited  him  — 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Yes  ;  we  invited  the  young  fellow.  He  is  a  musician, 
I  know  ;  but  really  we  did  n't  want  to  make  him  feel 
his  position. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Well,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  perhaps  you  will  think  I  am 
meddling  with  what  does  n't  concern  me,  but  if  I 
were  in  your  place  I  'd  let  him  come  this  once,  and 
then  see  no  more  of  him. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Why,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis?  My  daughter  has  never 
had  reason  to  complain  either  of  him  or  his  work. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Well,  never  mind.     Who  else  is  there.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Mr.  Teissier  —  that 's  all. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

So  I  am  going  to  meet  this  Mr.  Teissier,  whom  I 
have  heard  so  much  of,  but  whom  I  have  never  yet 
seen!  (She  rises  and  goes  over  to  Mrs.  Vigneron, 
taking  her  hy  the  hand  in  a  friendly  way)  Why  is 
it,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  we  have  never  seen  your  husband's 
partner  ? 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  25 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

My  daughters  don't  like  him. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Surely  your  daughters  do  not  lay  down  the  law  in 
your  house?  I  should  think  Mr.  Vigneron  would 
have  his  partner  come  here  regardless  of  childish 
whims. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

But  the  men  see  each  other  every  day  at  the  factory, 
and  when  they  have  talked  over  their  business  affairs, 
they  have  nothing  more  to  say  to  each  other. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Now  see  here,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  I  am  not  the  kind  of  a 
woman  to  betray  anybody's  confidence  ;  but  if  I 
guessed  a  secret,  that  would  be  different.  Now  own 
up  —  for  some  reason  or  other,  it  's  you  who  have 
kept  Mr.  Teissier  from  coming  here. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I.''  You  are  entirely  wrong  about  that.  In  the  first 
place  I  do  whatever  my  family  wishes  ;  besides,  if 
I  don't  exactly  like  Mr.  Teissier,  at  least  I  don't 
absolutely  dislike  him. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

You  —  just  feel  indifferent  toward  him.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

That 's  exactly  it  —  indifferent. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Then  I  must  say  that  you  are  either  very  short- 
sighted, or  altogether  too  unselfish.  Is  n't  Mr. 
Teissier  extremely  wealthy.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Yes. 


26  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

And  past  sixty? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Long  past. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

He  has  no  wife  or  children. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

That 's  right. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

It  is  n't  known  that  he  has  a  mistress.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

A  mistress  !  Mr.  Teissier  !  Good  Lord,  what  would 
he  be  doing  with  a  mistress.'' 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Now  listen  ;  it 's  no  laughing  matter.  Here  you 
have,  right  in  your  grasp,  a  big  unclaimed  legacy 
which  may  come  any  day.  It  could  fall  to  you  with- 
out making  talk  and  without  underhanded  means. 
Does  n't  such  a  legacy  mean  anything  to  you.f*  Either 
you  don't  care  for  money,  or  you  think  that  it  would 
be  buying  it  too  dearly  if  you  showed  some  sem- 
blance of  affection  for  an  old  man. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  you  say  is  true  enough,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis, 
and  you  are  not  the  first  one  who  has  said  as  much. 
I  '11  explain  my  position.  If  we  should  be  indebted 
to  a  stranger,  our  home  would  n't  be  quite  the  same  ; 
my  husband  could  n't  hold  up  his  head,  and  we 
should  n't  be  as  happy.  But  this  reason  does  n't 
apply  to  you.  There  's  nothing  to  keep  you  from 
trying  your  luck  with  Mr.  Teissier,  after  the  children 
are  married.    If  he  takes  an  interest  in  this  marriage. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  27 

so  much  the  better.  I  would  be  only  too  glad  if 
Blanche  and  her  husband  could  benefit  in  that  way. 
Well,  I  'm  drifting  away  from  the  point.  If  Mr. 
Teissier,  who  must  be  tired  of  living  alone  at  his 
age,  should  succumb  to  your  charms,  I  should  be 
quite  pleased  to  see  you  married  to  him.  Of  course, 
there  would  be  certain  disadvantages  on  your  side, 
but  the  compensations  would  be  great. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

You  don't  know  men,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  and  you  're 
talking  nonsense.  In  a  pinch,  Mr.  Teissier  would  n't 
be  too  old  for  me  ;  the  trouble  is  I  'm  not  young 
enough  for  him. 

AUGUSTE  (entering) 

Mr.  Merckens  has  just  come,  ma'am.  Shall  I  show 
him  into  the  other  parlor  .f* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Which  would  you  rather  do,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  — 
stay  here  and  talk  with  Mr.  Merckens  or  come  and 
help  me  dress? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Just  as  you  please. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Then  come  with  me.  I  '11  show  you  some  things 
I  have  bought,  and  you  must  tell  me  whether  they 
are  the  latest  style. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

With  pleasure. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Bring  Mr.  Merckens  in  and  ask  him  to  wait  a  few 
moments.     (They  go  out  at  the  left) 


28  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

AUGUSTE 

Come  in  and  have  a  chair,  Mr.  Merckens.     I  'm  the 
only  one  here  just  at  the  moment. 

MERCKENS 

All  right  ;  go  ahead  with  your  work,  Auguste  ;   don't 
let  me  disturb  you.     (Going  dozrni  the  stage)     The 
servant  is  a  good  fellow,  but  this  treatment  is  in- 
tolerable, 
AUGUSTE  {coming  back  again) 

No  lessons  to-day,  Mr.  Merckens.     You  're  here  to 
have  a  good  time. 

MERCKENS 

Is  Miss  Judith  dressing? 

AUGUSTE 

Probably.     But  you  know,  with  her  it 's  one,  two, 
three  —  done  ! 

MERCKENS 

Please    tell   Miss    Judith   that    I  'm   here    and    have 
brought  the  music  she  wanted. 
\^At  this  moment  Judith  enters, 

AUGUSTE 

Now  what  did  I  tell  you  !    {To  Judith)    You  were  n't 
long  dressing,  miss,  but  you  put  in  your  time  pretty 
well. 
jumTH 

Thank  you,  Auguste, 

[Auguste   takes   up    Vigneron' s   dressing-gown   and 
goes  out. 

MERCKENS 

Your    servant    took    that    compliment    out    of    my 
mouth;    now  I  don't  know  what  to  say. 

JUmTH 

Well,  it  is  n't  worth  while  bothering  about. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  29 

MERCKENS  {unrolUng  some  sheets  of  music) 
Here  is  your  composition,  Miss  Judith. 

JUDITH 

Let  me  have  it. 

MERCKENS 

The  name  of  the  composer  is  n't  on  it,  but  I  can 
have  it  put  on. 

JUDITH 

You  must  keep  it  to  yourself. 

MERCKENS 

Are  you  satisfied.'' 

JUDITH 

I  don't  know  what  to  do.  I  know  so  well  that  the 
family,  and  particularly  mama,  would  n't  like  our 
little  conspiracy. 

MERCKENS 

I  repeat  what  I  told  you  about  this  little  piece.  It 
is  distinctive  and  interesting.  It 's  a  little  bit  melan- 
choly ;  perhaps  you  had  a  cold  in  the  head  that  day. 
We  had  it  printed  because  it  was  worth  it  ;  that 's 
all  there  is  to  it. 

JUDITH 

Now  understand,  Mr.  Merckens,  I  reserve  the  right 
to  show  my  composition  or  to  say  nothing  about  it, 
just  as  I  please. 

MERCKENS 

Why.? 

JUDITH 

Because  a  girl  of  my  age  must  live  very  quietly,  with- 
out letting  herself  indulge  in  unbecoming  fancies. 

MERCKENS 

The  young  ladies  I  know  are  not  so  particular. 


30  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

JUDITH 

All  the  more  reason.  {She  opejis  the  music  and  reads 
the  title  tenderly)  "  Farewell  to  the  Bride  and 
Groom."  I  'm  not  surprised  that  this  piece  is  sad. 
I  felt  deeply  while  I  was  writing  it.  I  was  thinking 
of  my  little  sister  whom  we  all  love  so  much  and 
who  is  so  soon  to  leave  us.  Who  knows  what  she  is 
giving  up,  and  what  fate  awaits  her! 

MERCKENS 

To  tell  the  truth,  was  n't  there  something  under- 
handed about  this  marriage  ? 

JUDITH 

No.     Why  do  you  ask.? 

MEKCKENS 

Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  had  her  pick.  She  could  have 
asked  for  the  oldest  rather  than  the  youngest. 

JUDITH 

That  would  have  been  too  bad.  He  and  my  sister 
make  a  fine  couple,  and  that  would  n't  have  been  the 
case  —  otherwise. 

MERCKENS 

Don't  be  impatient;    your  turn  will  come. 

JUDITH 

I  don't  let  that  worry  me. 

MERCKENS 

Yet  you  do  wish  a  little  that  you  were  married.'' 

JUDITH 

As  late  as  possible.  I  'm  getting  along  first-rate, 
and  I  don't  care  to  make  any  change. 

MERCKENS 

Composing  satisfies  yon? 

JUDITH 

You  are  right,  it  does. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  31 

MERCKENS 

It  seems  too  bad  that  such  a  delightful  young  woman, 
so  gifted,  should  lack  just  a  little  something  which 
would  make  her  work  worth  while. 

JUDITH 

What  is  that  something? 
MERCKENS  (m  a  low  tone) 
A  little  of  the  devil. 

JUDITH 

Mama  would  n't  be  pleased  if  she  heard  you  say  that  ; 
she  'd  think  I  was  already  running  wild. 

MERCKENS 

Does  your  mother  scold  you  sometimes.? 

JUDITH 

Yes,  sometimes.  But  worse  than  that,  when  she  is 
angry  she  locks  up  my  piano  ;  and  she  has  told 
father  not  to  take  us  to  the  Opera. 

MERCKENS 

Where  do  you  go,  then.? 

JUDITH 

To  the  Circus.  I  don't  blame  mama,  though.  She 
thinks  the  Opera  is  bad  for  me;  and  perhaps  she  is 
right.  It 's  true  ;  the  wonders  of  the  scenery,  the 
allurement  of  the  acting,  and  the  splendid  singing 
—  why,  it 's  a  week  before  I  am  myself  again. 

MERCKENS 

These  great  singers  get  high  prices,  you  know. 

JUDITH 

They  are  all  great  to  me. 

MERCKENS 

Perhaps  you  envy  them.? 

JUDITH 

I  'm  wild  about  them. 


32  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

MERCKENS 

Why  don't  you  be  one  ? 

JUDITH 

What!     I  go  on  the  stage? 

MERCKENS 

Why  not?  You  have  a  good  contralto  voice,  and 
there  are  very  few  contraltos.  You  have  the  pres- 
ence, and  vivacity,  and,  above  all,  you  have  feeling 
—  a  great  deal  of  it.  The  world  will  never  miss  one 
housekeeper,  and  it  will  rejoice  in  one  more  artist. 

JUDITH 

Hush  !  don't  say  any  more  about  it.  I  am  going 
to  stick  to  your  lessons.  They  seem  to  me  better 
than  your  advice.  Have  you  an  engagement  for  this 
evening?     Will  you  stay  a  little  while  after  dinner? 

MERCXENS 

A  little  while.  I  still  count  on  hearing  your  com- 
position. 

JUDITH 

And  you  will  play  something  for  us,  too? 

MERCKENS 

Don't  ask  that.  I  don't  stand  on  ceremony  with 
you  ;  you  and  I  speak  right  out.  When  I  am  talk- 
ing I  can  be  witty  and  amusing;  but  my  music 
does  n't  resemble  my  conversation  the  least  bit. 

JUDITH 

We  're  going  to  dance. 

MERCKENS 

Nonsense  ! 

JUDITH 

Yes,  we  are.  Blanche  wanted  to.  The  least  she  can 
do  is  to  dance  once  or  twice  with  her  future  husband 
before  she  is  married.     And  then  Gaston  has  a  sur- 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  33 

prise  for  us.  He  insists  he  is  going  to  dance  a 
quadrille  with  his  father,  and  that  we  won't  be  able 
to  tell  them  apart. 

MERCKENS 

How  so? 

JUDITH 

You  '11  see.  You  don't  know  how  my  brother  can 
imitate  papa  to  the  very  life.  It 's  wonderful  how 
much  like  him  he  seems  at  those  times  —  his  voice, 
his  gestures,  his  way  of  joking. 

MERCKENS 

I  can  see  you  are  going  to  have  a  good  time.  Thank 
you  for  asking  me  to  be  here. 

JUDITH 

Now  you  're  making  fun  of  me,  Mr.  Artist.  I  don't 
want  to  be  too  severe,  but  I  fancy  that  many  of  your 
parties  are  n't  worth  all  the  fuss  you  make  about 
them.  Our  folks  would  consider  them  ridiculous,  too, 
to  say  the  least.  There  's  one  thing  we  can  say,  any- 
way; here  you  will  be  among  respectable  people. 
{Mrs.  Vigneron  and  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  reenter) 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS   (aside) 

I  knew  we  'd  find  them  together.  (Judith  goes  over 
to  her  and  they  greet  each  other  affectionately) 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (dressed  loudly  and  covered  mith  jew- 
elry) Pardon  me,  Mr.  Merckens,  for  making  you 
wait.  Women  never  do  get  dressed.  Do  you  think 
I  look  well? 

MERCKENS 

Dazzling  ! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Perhaps  I  have  too  much  jewelry  on.  Mrs.  de 
Saint-Genis  advised  me  to  take  off  some  of  it. 


34  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

MERCKENS 

Why,  Mrs.  Vigneron?  Princess  Limperani  wore 
three  hundred  thousand  francs'  worth  at  the  dinner 
she  gave  yesterday. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Three  hundred  thousand  francs  !     Then  I  can  keep 

on  what  I  have. 

\^Marie  and  Blanche  enter. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (going  to  Judith) 

Your  father  is  late.     He  won't  be  here  to  receive  his 

guests. 
BLANCHE  {to  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis) 

Why  did  n't  your  son  come  with  you.'' 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

George  is  working,  dear.  You  must  n't  expect  me  to 
keep  him  from  his  duties. 

BLANCHE 

He  has  more  than  one  kind  of  duty  now.  He  must 
love  me  as  much  as  I  love  him. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

That 's   easy.      He  won't  have  to   forget  his   other 
duties  to  do  that.     I  warn  you  we  are  going  to  pull 
hair  if  you  begin  to  spoil  my  boy. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (to  Mts.  de  Saint-Gems') 

I  suppose  George's  witnesses  will  arrive  together. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

No.  Mr.  Lenormand  and  my  son  will  leave  the  office 
and  come  here  together  ;  the  general  will  come  alone. 
The  general  and  Mr.  Lenormand  know  each  other, 
because  they  have  met  at  our  house,  but  I  have  never 
tried  to  bring  about  any  closer  relationship  between 
them. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  35 

AUGUSTE  (^announcing) 

Mr.  Teissier! 
TEISSIER  {entering) 

How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Vigneron. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Let  me  take  your  hat,  Mr.  Teissier. 

TEISSIER 

Never  mind.  I  '11  put  it  somewhere  myself,  so  as  to 
be  sure  of  finding  it  again. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Just  as  you  like.  Won't  you  sit  here,  in  this  armchair.'' 

TEISSIER 

I  will  in  a  few  minutes.  It 's  so  cold  outdoors  and 
so  warm  in  here  that  I  'm  going  to  stay  on  my  feet 
until  I  get  used  to  the  temperature  of  the  room. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  hope  you  are  not  ill? 

TEISSIER 

I  try  to  keep  from  being  ill. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

How  do  you  think  my  husband  has  been  lately? 

TEISSIER 

Very  well.  Vigneron  takes  better  care  of  himself, 
now  that  he  's  got  some  money  ahead.  He  's  right, 
too.  A  man's  life  is  worth  more  when  he 's  got 
something  laid  by.  You  can  attend  to  your  guests, 
Mrs.  Vigneron  ;  I  '11  sit  in  the  comer  until  dinner 
time.  {He  leaves  her) 
MRS.  VIGNERON  {going  over  to  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis) 
VV^ell,  that's  Mr.  Teissier!  What  do  you  think  of 
him.? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

He  has  the  eyes  of  a  fox  and  the  face  of  a  monkey. 


36  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

AUGUSTE  (announciiig) 
Mr.  Bourdon! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  our  lawyer  will  dine  with  us. 

BOURDON 

How  do  you  do,  ladies  —  young  people — (^Greet- 
ings) 

MRS.  VIGNERON  (presenting  Bourdon) 

Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  ;  INIr.  Merckens,  my  eldest 
daughter's  music-teacher.  You  are  one  of  the  first 
to  come,  Mr.  Bourdon  ;  that 's  very  nice  of  you. 
(Bourdon  bows) 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Mr.  Bourdon  is  setting  a  good  example  for  his 
brother  lawyers.  They  don't  usually  pride  them- 
selves on  their  punctuahty. 

BOURDON 

Yes,  we  do  sometimes  keep  people  waiting  —  but 
never  at  dinner.  (Going  over  to  Mrs.  de  Saint- 
Genis)  I  have  been  asked  to  congratulate  you,  Mrs. 
de  Saint-Genis. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Mr.  Testelin.? 

BOURDON 

Yes.  We  were  talking  about  your  son's  marriage  to 
Miss  Vigneron,  and  I  happened  to  say  that  I  was 
going  to  have  dinner  with  you.  "  There  will  be  a 
delightful  woman  there,"  he  said.  "  Give  her  my 
best  regards." 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Mr.  Testelin  has  been  my  lawyer  for  twenty  years. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  37 

BOUEDON 

So  he  said.  {In  a  lower  tone,  coming  nearer  to  her) 
Testelin  is  a  courteous  fellow,  with  considerable  weak- 
ness for  pretty  women. 

MRS.  DE  SAiNT-GENis  {dryly) 

It 's  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  that.  {She  leaves  him, 
smiling) 

BOURDON  {to  Mrs.  Vigneron) 
Is  Teissier  dining  here.'' 

MRS.  VIGNERON  {pointing  out  Teissier  to  him) 
There  he  is,  if  you  want  to  talk  to  him. 

BOURDON 

How  are  you,  Teissier.? 

TEISSIER 

Oh,  it 's  you.  Bourdon  !  Come  here  a  minute  ;  I 
want  to  tell  you  something.  {In  a  lozv  tone)  I  was 
at  the  Lawyer's  Club  to-day  on  business.  I  was 
speaking  to  the  President  about  my  long  acquaint- 
ance with  you,  and  he  got  rather  confidential  about 
you.  "  I  know  Bourdon,"  he  said.  "  He 's  got 
brains  enough  ;  he  's  as  shrewd  as  they  make  them  ; 
but  sometimes  he  overplays  his  hand.  We  've  got  to 
squelch  him." 

BOURDON 

What  do  I  care  for  the  Lawyer's  Club  ?  They  're  a 
crowd  of  stiff-necks  who  want  to  give  the  Club  a 
goody-goody  tone.  The  Club  is  meant  to  be  a  pro- 
tection for  us  —  not  for  the  public. 

TEISSIER 

Now  listen.  Bourdon  ;  I  have  n't  repeated  this  con- 
versation to  keep  you  from  doing  business.  I  just 
thought  I  would  be  doing  you  a  favor  by  letting  you 
know. 


38  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

BOURDON 

So  I  take  it,  friend  Teissier.     I  'ra  much  obliged. 

AUGUSTE  (announcing) 

Mr.  Lenormand  and  Mr.  George  de  Saint-Genis  ! 

MRS.  DE  SAINT-GENIS  {to  Mvs.  Vigneron) 

I  want  you  to  meet  Mr.  Lenormand.  (This  presen- 
tation and  those  following  take  place  at  the  rear. 
George  alone  goes  to  the  front  of  the  stage) 

BLANCHE  {speaking  in  a  low  tone  to  George) 

Don't  say  anything  to  me,  and  don't  come  too  near 
me.  Mama  has  given  me  a  dressing  down.  I  was 
terribly  afraid;  I  didn't  know  just  what  she  was 
going  to  say. 

AUGUSTE  {announcing) 
General  Fromentin! 

BOURDON  (  to  Merckens) 
You  are  a  pianist.? 

MERCKENS 

A  composer. 

BOURDON 

A  musician  —  that 's  what  I  should  have  said.  Do 
you  like  to  go  into  society? 

MERCKENS 

I  can't  help  myself  ;   I  'm  dragged  into  it. 

BOURDON 

You  might  remember  my  name  and  address,  "  Mr. 
Bourdon,  lawyer,  22  St.  Anne  street."  We  have  a 
few  friends  with  us  every  Sunday  evening.  I  ought 
to  warn  you  there  's  nothing  fancy  about  it.  The 
people  come  at  nine  o'clock,  we  have  a  little  music, 
sing  a  few  songs,  have  a  cup  of  tea,  and  by  mid- 
night everybody  is  in  bed. 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  39 

MEECKENS 

I  could  n't  promise  to  come  every  Sunday. 

BOURDON 

Come  when  you  can  ;    we  '11  be  glad  to  see  you  any 

time. 
AUGUSTE  (announcing) 

Mr.  Vigneron! 
MRS.  DE  SAiNT-GENis  (to  Mts.  Vigncron) 

What  !     Is  your  husband  in  the  habit  of  announcing 

his  arrival.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

The  servant  has  made  a  mistake,  of  course. 

[^Gaston  enters,  with  his  father^ s  dressing-gown  on. 

He  imitates  his  father's  voice  and  walk. 
GASTON  {approaching  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis) 

How  is  the  lovely  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  .f' 
MRS.  DE  sAiNT-GENis  (taking  the  joke  in  good  part) 

I  'm  very  well,  thank  you,  Mr.  Vigneron. 

GASTON 

Mr.  Bourdon,  I  am  your  humble  servant.  (To 
Merckens)  How  do  you  do,  young  man.  (To 
Lenormand  and  the  General)  Delighted  to  meet  you, 
gentlemen. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

That 's   what   we   get    for   spoiling  children  !      This 
young  rascal  is  caricaturing  his  father. 
GASTON  (to  Mrs.  Vigneron) 

Well,  old  lady,  is  dinner  ready.''  By  heavens,  we 
have  n't  spared  any  expense  to  give  you  a  good  time  ; 
we  don't  have  a  marriage  in  the  family  every  day. 
(To  his  sisters)  Which  one  of  you  is  it.?  I  don't 
remember.     It  strikes  me  that  while  we  are  waiting 


40  THE    VULTURES  [act  i 

for  dinner  Miss  Judith  ought  to  play  us  something 
—  La  Dame  Blanche,  for  instance. 

MKS.    VIGNERON 

Come,  Gaston,  that 's  enough.     Take  oflP  that  dress- 
ing-gown and  act  properly. 

GASTON 

Yes,  old  lady.     (The  sisters  help  him  off  with  the 
gown,  amid  general  laughter) 
AUGUSTE  {approaching  Mrs.  Vigneron) 

There  's  a  gentleman  here  who  was  n't  invited  to  din- 
ner and  wants  to  speak  with  you. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  gentleman,  Auguste?     Is  this  some  new  joke 
of  my  son's.? 

AUGUSTE 

If  you  order  me  to  admit  him  you  will  see  whether 
it  is  or  not. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Don't  admit  anyone.     Tell  the  gentleman  I  can't  see 
him. 

AUGUSTE 

If  he  insists,  ma'am? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Then  send  him  about  his  business. 
AUGUSTE  (^returning) 

Here  he  is,  ma'am. 
THE  DOCTOR  {covfiing  forward) 

Mrs.  Vigneron? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Yes,  sir. 
THE  DOCTOR  {comtng  close  to  her  and  speaking  in  a 
very    low    voice)     Have    you    children    here,    Mrs. 
Vigneron  ? 


ACT  i]  THE    VULTURES  41 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Yes,  sir. 

THE    DOCTOR 

Send  them  out  of  the  room.    Please  do  it  at  once. 

MRS.  VIGNERON  {disturbed,  and  speaking  quickly) 

Go  into  the  other  parlor,  girls.  Run  along,  now  ; 
do  as  I  tell  you  ;  go  into  the  other  parlor.  Gaston, 
you  go  along  with  your  sisters.  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis, 
will  you  please  take  the  girls  in?  {She  opens  the 
door  at  the  right,  and  the  children  pass  out) 

THE  DOCTOR  {speaking  to  the  men,  who  have  risen) 
You  can  stay,  gentlemen.     Are  you  relatives  of  Mr. 
Vigneron? 

BOURDON 

No,  just  his  friends. 

THE    DOCTOR 

Well,  gentlemen,  your  friend  has  just  had  a  stroke  of 

apoplexy. 

[Vigneron  is  brought  in  at  the  rear.    Mrs,  Vigneron 

cries  out  and  throws  herself  upon  her  husband's  body. 

CURTAIN 


THE    SECOND    ACT 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  in  the  preceding  act. 

MRS.  VIGNERON  (^Weeping,  with  haTidkerchief  in  hand) 
Do  forgive  me,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  ;  I  'm  ashamed 
to  weep  like  this  before  you,  but  I  can't  help  it.  To 
think  that  only  one  month  ago  he  was  sitting  there 
right  where  you  are  now,  and  that  I  shall  never  see 
him  again  !  You  knew  him  ;  he  was  so  good,  so 
happy;  he  was  too  happy,  and  so  were  we  all;  it 
could  n't  last.  Do  talk  to  me  ;  it  will  give  me  a 
chance  to  control  myself.  I  know  I  ought  to  make 
the  best  of  it.  He  had  to  die  sometime.  But  many 
a  time  I  used  to  ask  God  to  let  me  be  the  first  to  go. 
Don't  you  think  men  as  good  as  my  husband  go  to 
heaven  ? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

There  's  no  doubt  about  it,  Mrs.  Vigneron. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Tell  me  about  your  son.  I  have  scarcely  laid  eyes 
on  him  since  our  misfortune.  He 's  good,  too  ; 
Blanche  told  me  he  wept. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

George  is  well,  thank  you. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  a  setback  it  is  for  the  poor  dears  !  And  they 
love  each  other  so  much  ! 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  43 

MES.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

This  marriage  is  exactly  what  I  should  have 
talked  of  if  I  had  found  you  composed.  You 
are  not  sensible  or  courageous,  my  dear.  I  know 
what  it  is  to  lose  a  husband.  I  've  been  all  through 
it.  Only  I  had  more  reason  to  complain  than  you. 
When  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis  died  he  left  me  nothing 
but  debts  and  a  four-year-old  child  on  my  hands. 
Your  daughters  are  old  enough  to  be  a  consolation 
to  you  ;  they  are  grown  up  ;  and  you  don't  have  to 
worry  about  their  future  or  your  own.  {Changing 
Tier  tone)  I  suppose  now,  in  the  condition  you  are  in, 
you  haven't  given  thought  to  your  business  affairs.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  business  affairs.»* 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

You  ought  to  know  that  Mr.  Vigneron's  estate  won't 
settle  itself.  You  will  have  to  have  the  apportion- 
ment settled,  and  perhaps  there  will  be  some  difficul- 
ties to  meet. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Oh,  no,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  no  difficulties.  My  hus- 
band was  too  honest  a  man  ever  to  have  business 
difficulties. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

They  could  arise  after  his  death.  Now  listen  to  me. 
It  is  n't  Mr.  Vigneron's  uprightness  I  'm  question- 
ing ;  it 's  that  of  the  other  people.  Have  you  seen 
Mr.  Teissier  yet? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Mr.  Teissier  has  stayed  at  home  as  usual.  I  needed 
money,  and  he  sent  it  to  me  after  a  little  urging; 
that  is  the  extent  of  our  dealings. 


44  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

MRS,    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Now  listen  to  what  I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Vigneron.  Even 
if  my  advice  should  be  wrong  in  this  case,  adopt  it 
as  a  general  rule:   Keep  an  eye  on  Mr.  Teissier. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

All  right,  I  will  keep  an  eye  on  him.  But  just  sup- 
pose he  should  have  bad  intentions  :  it 's  my  lawyer, 
not  I,  who  should  bring  him  to  terras. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Keep  an  eye  on  your  lawyer. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Oh,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis! 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

There  's  no  use  saying  "  Oh  !  "  I  know  these  lawyers, 
Mrs.  Vigneron.  You  never  know  whether  they  are 
going  to  save  you  or  be  the  undoing  of  you  ;  and  ac- 
cording to  their  ideas  you  are  always  in  the  wrong. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

VV^hat  would  you  say  if  I  should  tell  you  that  my 
lawyer,  Mr.  Bourdon,  is  also  Mr.  Teissier's  lawyer.'' 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

I  would  advise  you  to  get  another. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

No  ;  I  have  a  blind  confidence  in  Mr.  Bourdon,  and 
I  shan't  get  rid  of  him  till  I  lose  it. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

It  will  be  too  late  then. 
AUGUSTE  (entering  and  speaking  to  Mrs.  Vigneron) 
Mr.  Lefort  sends  his  regards  and  wants  to  know  if 
you  have  looked  over  his  memorandum. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

His  memorandum!     Did  he  give  me  one.? 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  45 

AUGUSTE 

Yes,  ma'am. 

MRS.    VIGNEEON 

Where  did  I  put  it.?    I  don't  know  anything  about  it. 

AUGUSTE 

Mr.  Lefort  will  call  sometime  during  the  day. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Very  well,  tell  him  I  will  see  him.  {^Auguste  goes 
out)     Mr.  Lefort  is  our  architect. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Keep  an  eye  on  your  architect! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  don't  know  where  you  got  such  a  bad  opinion 
of  other  people,  Mrs,  de  Saint-Genis  ;  but  if  I  were 
you,  I  should  n't  display  it. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

It 's  the  least  I  can  do  to  put  you  on  your  guard. 
Everybody  looks  honest  to  you. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

And  nobody  looks  honest  to  you. 
MRS.  DE  SAINT-GENIS  {rising) 

I  don't  wish  you  any  harm,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  and  I 
hope  with  all  my  heart,  for  your  sake  and  the  sake 
of  your  daughters,  who  are  really  delightful  girls, 
that  everything  goes  smoothly  in  settling  Mr.  Vig- 
neron's  estate.  But  in  business  nothing  goes 
smoothly.  What  seems  simple  is  complicated,  and 
what  seems  complicated  is  beyond  understanding. 
Take  my  word  for  it,  you  will  be  wise  to  stop  think- 
ing a  little  while  of  him  who  is  gone,  in  order  to  think 
of  yourself  and  your  children  instead.  Unfortu- 
nately I  don't  know  whether  IVIr.  Vigneron  left  you 
an  annuity  or  government  bonds.    He  did  n't,  did  he? 


46  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

I  dare  say  his  fortune  was  in  that  factory,  owned  by 
him  and  Mr.  Teissier  together?  He  had  land,  true 
enough  ;  but  he  had  bought  most  of  it  with  borrowed 
money  and  on  mortgage.  I  tell  you  all  this  with  the 
best  of  feeling.  Women  ought  to  warn  and  help  each 
other.  As  for  self-interest,  it  looks  as  though  I  no 
longer  had  any.  We  had  a  very  nice  plan,  to  marry 
our  children.  I  must  say  it  is  not  merely  postponed, 
but  really  in  danger.  It  does  n't  seem  possible  for 
you  to  fulfil  the  financial  obligations  you  undertook, 
and  I  would  n't  let  my  son  make  a  poor  marriage  for 
anything  —  and  have  him  blame  me  for  it  afterwards. 

MES.    VIGNERON 

Just  as  you  please,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis.  ÇA  pause 
and  embarrassed  silence) 

MRS.  DE  SAiNT-GENis  (speaking  quickly) 

Good-bye,  Mrs.  Vigneron.  Do  as  I  tell  you  ;  look 
out  for  your  interests,  and  we  can  talk  about  our 
children  some  other  time.  But  for  heaven's  sake, 
Mrs.  Vigneron,  get  this  into  your  head  —  it  is  the 
most  useful  and  the  friendliest  advice  I  can  give  you  : 
Keep  an  eye  on  everybody  — everybody!  (She  goes 
toward  the  door  at  the  rear,  Mrs.  Vigneron  coldly 
escorting  her.  The  door  opens  and  Teissier  enters) 
Stay  here  ;  you  need  n't  go  to  the  door  with  me. 
{She  goes  out) 

MRS.  VIGNERON  {iveeping,  handkerchief  in  hand) 

What  a  terrible  thing  this  is,  Mr.  Teissier!  My 
poor  husband  !  It  was  work  that  killed  him  !  Why 
did  he  work  so  hard?  He  didn't  care  for  money; 
he  spent  nothing  on  himself.  Oh,  he  wanted  to  see 
his  children  happy  while  he  was  living,  and  to  leave 
them  rich!     (A  silence) 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  47 

TEISSIER 

Mrs.  Vigneron,  did  you  authorize  Mrs.  de  Saint- 
Genis  to  come  to  my  house  to  find  out  how  things 
stand  in  regard  to  your  husband's  estate? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  know  nothing  about  it,  and  I  should  not  have 
sanctioned  it. 

TEISSIER 

I  did  my  duty  on  the  double-quick.  I  took  the  lady 
by  the  arm  and  showed  her  the  door. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

That 's  all  she  deserved.  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  was 
here  when  you  came,  Mr.  Teissier,  and  was  talking 
about  my  husband's  affairs.  You  know  all  about 
,  them  and  understand  them  better  than  anybody  else. 
Won't  you  enlighten  me? 

TEISSIER 

When  I  have  a  few  minutes  of  leisure,  I  '11  take 
pleasure  in  drawing  up  a  statement  of  your  hus- 
band's estate.  What  do  you  want  most  to  know? 
Whether  it  will  be  settled  at  a  loss  or  profit?  (Mrs. 
Vigneron  waves  her  hand  deprecatingly)  From  off- 
hand calculations  I  have  made,  the  situation  in  gen- 
eral looks  something  like  this  —  now  pay  attention: 
when  the  factory  is  sold  — 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Why  sell  it? 

TEISSIER 

We  shall  have  to.  When  your  real  estate  and  the 
unfinished  buildings  also,  are  sold  — 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  'm  going  to  keep  my  real  estate. 


48  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

TEISSIER 

You  can't.  When  your  current  debts  are  liqui- 
dated — 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

But  I  have  no  debts. 

TEISSIER 

I  figure  them  at  about  forty  thousand  francs.  In 
that  sum  I  have  n't  included  your  architect,  who  will 
have  to  be  paid  after  your  real  estate  is  sold.  Let 
me  go  on.     After  the  registry  tax  is  paid  — 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  !  Does  a  person  have  to  pay  for  inheriting 
money  ? 

TEISSIER 

Certainly  you  have  to  pay,  Mrs.  Vigneron.  Now, 
when  the  usual  expenses  have  been  met  —  I  include 
under  the  head  of  "  usual  expenses  "  such  things  as 
the  lawyer's  fees,  and  those  of  his  associates,  unfore- 
seen bills,  carriage  hire,  postage,  etc.  In  a  word, 
when  you  have  closed  the  account  which  you  must 
open  under  the  head  of  "  Settlement  of  the  estate  of 
the  late  Mr.  Vigneron,  my  husband  "  there  will  be 
left  about  fifty  thousand  francs. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Fifty  thousand  francs  a  year  income. 

TEISSIER 

What,  income  ?  Don't  you  hear  what  I  'm  telling 
you?  How  do  you  see  in  what  Vigneron  left  the 
capital  necessary  to  provide  an  income  of  fifty  thou- 
sand francs? 
MRS.  VIGNERON  {lewves  him  abruptly,  and,  having  rung, 
opens  the  writing-desk  in  a  hurry  and  writes)  "  My 
dear  Mr.  Bourdon.     Please  come  and  see  me  as  soon 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  49 

as  you  can.  I  shall  not  rest  easy  till  I  have  seen 
you.  Mrs.  Vigneron."  Fifty  thousand  francs  !  (To 
Auguste,  who  has  just  come  in)  Deliver  this  letter 
at  once. 
TEISSIER  (having  taken  out  a  pocketbook  cram  full  of 
papers)  Now  if  you  will  pay  better  attention  while 
I  am  reading  — 

MES.  VIGNERON 

Fifty  thousand  francs!  (Turning  to  Teissier  and 
making  him  stuff  the  papers  back  into  his  pocket- 
book)  Keep  your  papers,  Mr.  Teissier  ;  I  want  noth- 
ing more  to  do  with  you.  (She  goes  out  at  the  left 
hurriedly) 
TEISSIER  (stuffing  the  papers  back) 

Ignorance,  incompetence,  impulsiveness  —  that 's  a 
woman,  all  over.  What 's  she  thinking  of,  I  'd  like 
to  know?  She  wants  to  keep  her  lands.  Well,  she 
can't.  Bourdon  will  have  to  make  her  understand 
that.  If  Bourdon  can  handle  this  case  as  he  promised 
me  he  could  —  quickly  and  quietly  —  I  can  get  my 
hands  on  real  estate  worth  twice  what  it  will  cost 
me.  But  we  can't  lose  a  minute's  time.  Delay  will 
bring  around  a  crowd  of  prospective  buyers,  and  that 
puts  prices  up.  When  Bourdon  finds  out  that  I 
have  struck  the  first  blow,  he  '11  do  the  rest  in  a  hurry. 
(He  is  going  out  wh^n  Marie  enters  at  the  left) 

MARIE 

Don't  go  away,  Mr.  Teissier,  before  making  up  with 
my  mother.     She  has  cried  so  much,  poor  thing,  that 
she  does  n't  know  which  end  her  head  is  on. 
TEISSIER  (coming  back) 

You  stopped  me  just  in  time,  young  woman.  I  was 
going  to  have  your  mother  summoned  into  court,  in 


50  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

order  to  recover  the  money  I  have  advanced  to  her. 
For  my  part,  I  'd  rather  not  leave  your  mother  in 
this  mess.  (^He  takes  out  Ms  pocketbook  again  and 
selects  a  different  paper  from  it)  Please  give  your 
mother  this  little  bill.  She  can  verify  it  easily 
enough  :  "  On  the  seventh  of  January,  advanced  to 
Mrs.  Vigneron  4000  francs  to  pay  the  expenses  of 
your  father's  funeral;  on  the  fifteenth  of  January, 
advanced  to  Mrs.  Vigneron  5000  francs  for  house- 
hold expenses";  (at  least,  that's  what  she  said  it 
was  for)  ;  "  on  the  same  day  "  —  the  fifteenth,  un- 
derstand?—  "paid  out,  in  taking  up  a  bill  of  ex- 
change signed  by  your  brother  and  drawn  to  the 
order  of  a  money-lender  named  Lefébure,  10,000 
francs."  Your  brother  being  under  age,  his  signa- 
ture was  worthless.  But  your  mother,  knowing  that 
your  brother  deceived  the  man  about  his  age  and  per- 
sonal resources,  did  n't  want  the  money-lender  to  be 
cheated.  (He  folds  up  the  paper  and  puts  it  back  in 
the  pocketbook)     Now,  what  can  I  do  for  you.'* 

MARIE 

Please  stay  awhile,  Mr.  Teissier.  It  was  n't  this  bill 
that  upset  my  mother  and  made  her  lose  her  temper 
with  you.  On  the  contrary,  she  would  have  thanked 
you  for  honoring  my  brother's  signature.  She  put 
the  blame  on  him,  where  it  belongs. 
TEISSIER  (surprised,  and  smiling) 

Then  you  know  what  a  signature  is.'' 

MARIE 

My  father  told  me. 

TEISSIER 

He  would  have  done  better  by  telling  your  brother. 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  51 

MAEIE 

Sit  down,  Mr.  Teissier.     Perhaps  I  am  rather  young 
to  talk  business  with  you. 
TEISSIER  {remmnkig  standing,  smiling  all  the  mhile) 
Go  ahead,  talk  ;   I  'm  listening. 

MARIE 

Speaking  for  myself,  I  am  looking  for  a  great  change 
in  our  social  condition,  but  I  don't  think  that  we 
shall  lose  everything.  In  any  case,  Mr.  Teissier,  you 
would  not  advise  us  to  be  either  too  yielding  or  too 
rash,  would  you?  Then  what  are  we  to  do.'*  Why, 
we  must  find  out  just  where  we  stand,  ask  for  advice, 
and  not  take  a  single  step  without  knowing  the  why 
and  wherefore  of  our  condition. 

TEISSIER 

Ah  !  —  Leaving  aside  the  real  estate,  which  does  n't 
concern  me,  what  would  you  do  with  the  factory, 
while  you  are  waiting.'' 

MARIE 

What  will  happen,  Mr.  Teissier,  if  we  want  to  keep 
it,  and  you  want  to  sell  it.-* 

TEISSIER 

It  will  be  sold.     The  law  provides  for  such  a  case. 

MARIE 

There  is  a  law  about  it.-* 
TEISSIER  (smiling  all  the  while) 

Yes,  miss,  there  is  a  law  on  the  subject.  Article 
815  of  the  Statutes  authorizes  either  one  of  two 
partners  to  dissolve  a  partnership  that  has  been 
broken  by  the  death  of  one  of  them.  I  can  prove  it 
to  you  on  the  spot.  (Taking  a  book  from  his 
pocket)     You  see  the  title  of  this  book:  "  Collected 


52  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

Laws  and  Regulations  in  Force  throughout  French 
Territory."  I  always  carry  a  copy  with  me.  I 
advise  you  to  do  the  same.  {He  passes  her  the  hook 
•with  a  certain  page  indicated.  While  she  is  reading 
he  watches  her  with  a  look  in  which  are  mingled  in- 
terest, pleasure  and  mockery)  Do  you  understand 
it.? 

MAEIE 

Perfectly.     {A  pause) 

TEISSIER 

Your  name  is  Marie,  and  you  are  the  second 
daughter? 

MARIE 

Yes,  Mr.  Teissier.     Why.? 

TEISSIER 

Your  father  had  a  marked  preference  for  you. 

MARIE 

My  father  loved  all  his  children  alike. 

TEISSIER 

Nevertheless  he  considered  you  cleverer  than  your 
sisters. 

MARIE 

He  used  to  say  so  sometimes,  to  console  me  for  not 
being  as  good-looking  as  they  are. 

TEISSIER 

What 's  the  matter  with  you?  You  have  pretty  eyes, 
rosy  cheeks,  a  well-rounded  figure,  everything  that 
goes  to  indicate  a  healthy  woman. 

MARIE 

I  am  not  worried  about  my  appearance.  All  I  ask 
is  not  to  be  noticed. 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  53 

TEISSIER 

Of  course,  you  are  the  one  that  helps  your  mother 
run  the  house.  In  a  pinch  you  would  make  a  good 
private  secretary. 

MARIE 

There  has  never  been  any  necessity  for  it  so  far. 

TEISSIER 

Now  is  the  time.  I  don't  believe  your  mother  is 
capable  of  disentangling  herself  alone.  You  will  be 
a  great  help  to  her.  Have  you  any  taste  for  business.'' 

MARIE 

I  understand  as  much  of  it  as  I  have  to. 

TEISSIER 

You  're  not  afraid  to  take  care  of  correspondence.'' 

MARIE 

No  ;  I  know  what  has  to  be  said. 

TEISSIER 

Are  you  good  at  figures?  Come,  yes  or  no?  You 
don't  want  to  tell?  {Leaving  her)  She  ought  to  be 
a  wonder  at  figures. 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier,  what  do  you  think  our  real  estate  is 
worth  ? 

TEISSIER 

Your  lawyer  can  tell  you  that  better  than  I  can. 
(Going  back  toward  her,  after  taking  up  his  hat) 
I  must  get  back  to  business  now,  miss.  I  know  what 
you  are  thinking  of  ;  that  the  factory  is  a  fine  prop- 
erty, and  you  can  keep  a  hold  on  it.  Who  is  going 
to  assure  me  that  it  won't  fall  down  some  night? 
Who  is  going  to  convince  me  that  you  yourselves,  by 


54  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

some  slick  trick,  might  not  sell  it  so  that  you  could 
buy  it  up  at  half  price? 

MARIE 

Why  should  you  anticipate  that,  Mr.  Teissier? 

TEISSIER 

I  anticipate  only  what  I  would  do  myself,  if  I  were 
forty  years  old  instead  of  sixty  odd.  To  sum  up, 
your  need  of  money  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  hand  my  knowledge  of  where  my  best  interests 
lie,  are  going  to  end  in  the  sale  of  the  factory.  Its 
condition  is  very  prosperous.  The  death  of  its  man- 
ager is  a  good  excuse,  and  one  that  does  n't  often 
happen  along,  to  sell  out  at  a  profit.  Have  you  got 
anything  else  to  say  to  me? 

MARIE 

Don't  go  away,  Mr.  Teissier,  without  seeing  my 
mother  again.  She  is  calmer  now,  and  will  listen 
to  you  very  willingly. 

TEISSIER 

It 's  no  use.  I  told  your  mother  what  I  had  to  say. 
You  are  intelligent  enough  to  explain  the  rest  to  her. 

MARIE  (having  rung) 

Do  what  I  ask,  Mr.  Teissier.  My  mother,  could  not 
help  losing  her  temper;  by  going  in  to  see  her,  you 
will  give  her  a  chance  to  apologize. 

TEISSIER 

Well,  just  as  you  say.  So  you  want  us  to  be  on 
good  terms  ?  I  '11  tell  you  right  now,  you  can't  gain 
anything  by  it.  How  old  are  you,  Miss  Marie? 
Scarcely  turned  twenty  !  And  already  a  modest, 
sensible  little  woman,  who  is  able  to  express  herself 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  55 

very  clearly.  {Leaving  her)  And  what  her  father 
did  not  tell  me,  a  very  tempting  creature.  {Auguste 
enters) 

MARIE 

Go  with  Auguste,  please;  he  will  take  you  in  to  my 
mother. 

TEISSIER 

My  best  wishes  for  you,  miss.     (He  goes  out  at  the 

left,  at  a  signal  from  Auguste  to  follow  him) 
MARIE  {bursting  into  tears) 

Oh,  father,  father! 
BLANCHE  {entering  and  going  slowly  over  to  her  sister) 

What 's  the  matter,  dear? 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier. 

BLANCHE 

Is  it  that  scoundrel  you  've  been  with  such  a  long 
while  ? 

MARIE 

Hush,  dear,  hush.  We  must  be  careful  now  and  not 
talk  indiscreetly. 

BLANCHE 

Why? 

MARIE 

Why  ?  I  don't  want  to  tell  you  ;  but  whether  you 
know  to-day  or  to-morrow,  it  will  be  just  as  hard  for 
you. 

BLANCHE 

What  do  you  mean  by  that? 

MARIE 

We  may  be  ruined. 


56  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

BLANCHE 

Ruined  ! 

\_Marie  lowers  her  head.  Blanche  burst  into  tearSt 
and  the  two  girls  put  their  arms  around  each  other. 
Then  they  separate,  but  Blanche  continues  to  weep, 
and  is  greatly  affected. 

MARIE 

I  should  n't  have  told  yoa  about  a  misfortune  that 
may  not  happen.  Here  is  the  whole  truth:  I  don't 
yet  see  very  clearly  into  our  situation,  but  it  does  n't 
look  promising.  Nevertheless,  it  may  all  come  out 
right,  on  one  condition  :  that  we  are  reasonable,  pru- 
dent, careful  in  our  dealings  with  everybody,  and 
make  up  our  minds  from  this  moment  to  overlook 
many  distasteful  things. 

BLANCHE 

You  can  do  as  you  please,  mama,  Judith  and  you; 
but  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  should  like 
to  sleep  until  after  I  am  married. 

MARIE 

Until  after  your  marriage,  dear  ! 

BLANCHE 

Now  what  have  you  on  your  mind.'' 

MARIE 

I  'm  sorry  to  think  that  this  marriage,  which  means 
so  much  to  you,  may  not  take  place,  after  all. 

BLANCHE 

You  are  wrong,  if  you  think  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis 
thinks  more  about  a  dowry  than  he  does  about  a 
loving  heart. 

MARIE 

Men  want  both  when  they  marry.  But  even  if  Mr. 
de  Saint-Genis  were  the  most  disinterested  man  in  the 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  57 

world,  he  has  a  mother  who  will  do  the  calculating 
for  him. 

BLANCHE 

His  mother  is  his  mother.  If  she  has  faults,  I  don't 
want  to  see  them.  But  she  has  been  married,  and  she 
would  not  want  her  son  to  be  disloyal  to  another 
woman. 

MARIE 

Let 's  not  be  unreasonable  and  unjust  in  our  misfor- 
tune, dear.  Both  families  have  promised  certain 
things  ;  if  we  cannot  keep  ours,  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis 
will  be  released  from  his. 

BLANCHE 

You  are  wrong,  you  are  wrong,  I  am  sure  of  it.  If 
I  should  say  the  word  to-morrow,  or  a  year  from  now, 
or  ten  years  from  now,  George  would  marry  me,  just 
as  he  ought  to  do,  if  I  wished  it.  You  see,  dear,  my 
marriage  is  not  like  so  many  others,  which  can  take 
place  or  not,  without  doing  harm.  You  don't  know 
how  you  are  hurting  me  by  having  the  least  doubt 
about  its  taking  place.  (Pause)  Tell  me  something 
about  how  we  are  ruined. 

MARIE 

Later  on  ;   I  don't  know  myself,  yet. 

BLANCHE 

Who  told  you  about  it? 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier.  I  must  tell  you  again  to  be  careful. 
Mr.  Teissier  is  in  the  other  room  with  mama.  I 
have  just  made  it  up  between  them.  . 

BLANCHE 

Were  they  angry  with  each  other? 


58  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

MARIE 

Yes,  they  were.  Mama  lost  her  temper  and  told  him 
to  get  out. 

BLANCHE 

She  did  right. 

MARIE 

She  did  wrong;  and  she  knew  it  right  away.  Our 
situation  is  bad  enough  without  making  it  worse  by 
hasty  and  thoughtless  actions.  Bear  in  mind, 
Blanche,  the  very  existence  of  all  of  us,  you  as  well 
as  the  rest  of  us,  is  at  stake.  No  matter  how  sure 
you  may  feel  of  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis,  a  man  looks 
twice  before  marrying  a  woman  who  has  n't  a  cent. 
You  are  the  sweetest  little  woman  in  the  world  ;  you 
are  all  heart  and  feelings  ;  for  you  money  does  n't 
exist  ;  but  you  will  find  it  exists  for  other  people. 
You  will  find  that  out  wherever  you  go.  In  business, 
for  instance;  and  we  are  engaged  in  business  with 
Mr.  Teissier.  In  marriages,  too,  as  perhaps  you  are 
going  to  learn  to  your  cost.  Money  certainly  has 
its  price.  Otherwise  there  would  not  be  so  many 
misfortunes  coming  from  the  lack  of  it,  or  so  many 
vile  deeds  committed  because  of  it. 

BLANCHE  (aside) 

Is  it  possible  that  a  young  man  like  him,  loving  and 
beloved  as  he  is,  would  stoop  to  such  a  base  act 
rather  than  sacrifice  his  money  interests? 

MARIE 

You  know  what  I  would  like,  don't  you,  dear?  You 
know  I  want  this  marriage  to  take  place,  because  you 
see  happiness  in  it.  But  if  I  were  in  your  place,  I 
should  be  prepared   for  anything.      I  should  be  in 


ACT  u]  THE    VULTURES  59 

raptures  if  it  took  place  ;  and  if  it  did  n't  I  should 
be  resigned. 

BLANCHE 

Resigned  !  If  I  thought  that  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis 
had  sought  me  out  for  my  money,  I  should  n't  be 
able  to  hold  up  my  head  again.  And  if  he  refused  to 
marry  me  because  I  had  lost  my  money,  I  should 
either  go  crazy  or  I  should  die. 

MARIE 

Then  you  do  love  him  a  great  deal? 

BLANCHE 

Yes,  I  do.  If  you  want  to  know,  I  worship  him! 
He  is  kind  and  loving,  and  childlike,  just  as  I  am. 
I  am  positive  he  has  a  big  heart  and  could  n't  bring 
himself  to  do  a  wrong  thing.  You  can  see,  can't 
you,  how  much  I  want  to  marry  him?  But  even  if 
I  should  be  deceived  in  him  ;  if  I  should  find  out  that 
he  was  not  worthy  of  either  love  or  respect  ;  if  he 
should  prove  to  be  the  vilest  creature  in  the  world, 
I  should  still  have  to  marry  him  — 

MARIE  {aside) 

The  poor  girl  is  suffering  so  much  she  does  n't  know 
what  she  is  saying. 

BLANCHE  (aside) 

Oh,  what  have  we  done  that  is  wrong?  —  You  know 
me,  sister  dear.  We  have  lived  together  for  twenty 
years  without  any  secrets  from  each  other.  Have  n't 
I  been  a  good  girl?  I  have  been  very  affectionate,  I 
know;  but  haven't  I  been  good,  too?  I  have  never 
had  a  single  thought  that  I  could  n't  tell.  If  I  had 
met  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis  in  the  street,  I  should  n't 
have  even  looked  at  him.  But  he  came  here  arm  in 
arm  with  my  father.     We  liked  each  other  immedi- 


60  THE    VULTURES  [act  n 

ately,  and  so  we  were  engaged.  Mama  told  me  to 
keep  an  eye  on  the  future,  but  I  could  n't  see  any 
great  harm  or  wrong  in  trusting  him. 

MARIE 

Come,  don't  go  on  that  way  ;  you  are  exaggerating, 
as  you  always  do.  You  told  Mr.  de  Saint-Genis  that 
you  loved  him,  I  suppose?  Well,  you  are  going  to 
marry  him,  so  that 's  excusable.  You  held  hands 
sometimes?  Perhaps  you  let  him  kiss  you?  You 
should  n't  have  done  that  ;  but  it  does  n't  call  for 
all  the  reproaches  you  are  heaping  on  yourself. 

BLANCHE  {afte'r  a  little  hesitation) 

I  am  his  wife,  do  you  hear?     I  am  his  wife! 

MARIE  (very  innocently) 
I  don't  see  what  you  mean. 

BLANCHE  (at  first  overcome  with  amazement) 

Oh,  forgive  me,  dearie.  You  are  as  pure  as  an  angel. 
I  should  n't  have  spoken  to  you  that  way.  Forget 
what  I  have  just  said;  don't  try  to  understand  it; 
and  please  don't  say  anything  about  it  to  mama  or 
Judith. 

MARIE 

Either  you  are  slightly  out  of  your  head  or  I  am 
rather  stupid. 

BLANCHE 

Yes,  that 's  it  ;   I  am  out  of  my  head.     And  you  are 
the    dearest    and    sweetest   sister    anyone    ever   had. 
{She  kisses  her  passionately) 
BOURDON  {entering) 

How  do  you  do  !  Your  mother  is  in,  is  n't  she?  Will 
you  please  tell  her  that  I  am  here? 

MARIE 

You  go,  dear.     {Blanche  goes  out  at  the  left) 


ACT  n]  THE    VULTURES  61 

BOURDON 

Your  mother  just  wrote  me  that  she  was  very  eager 
to  see  me  ;  and  I  can  readily  believe  it.  I  have  been 
at  my  office  every  day,  waiting  for  her  to  call  me. 

MARIE 

My  mother  has  been  so  afflicted,  Mr.  Bourdon,  and 
has  suffered  so  much  — 

BOURDON 

I  understand  perfectly,  my  dear  young  lady,  that  a 
woman  who  has  had  such  a  blow  as  your  mother 
can't  enjoy  paying  visits  or  going  shopping.  But 
it  is  no  more  than  proper  to  see  your  lawyer,  or  at 
least  to  ask  him  to  drop  in.  Fortunately,  your 
father's  estate  does  not  offer  very  great  difficulties. 
Nevertheless,  your  father  left  considerable  real  estate 
which  ought  to  be  inspected  at  once  and  turned  into 
cash  as  soon  as  possible.  Understand  me,  as  soon  as 
possible. 

MARIE 

Here  's  mother. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (weepîng,  handkerchief  in  hand) 

What  a  terrible  blow,  Mr.  Bourdon  !  What  a  dread- 
ful thing  !  My  poor  husband  !  I  don't  seem  to  be 
able  to  weep  enough.  I  just  know  I  shall  never  live 
through  it.     {A  silence) 

BOURDON 

Tell  me,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  while  I  happen  to  think  of 
it:  did  you  give  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  permission  to 
call  on  me  to  learn  how  things  stand  in  regard  to 
your  husband's  estate.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

She  had  no  permission  from  me.  And  so  Mrs.  de 
Saint-Genis  paid  you  a  visit,  too  —  ! 


62  THE    VULTURES  [act  n 

BOURDON 

Don't  worry  about  that.  The  way  I  treated  her  she 
won't  want  to  come  again.  You  wanted  to  see  me, 
Mrs.  Vigneron.  Please  speak  quickly  and  clearly, 
and  make  it  brief. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  won't  detain  you  long,  Mr.  Bourdon.  I  have  only 
one  question  to  ask  you.  Is  it  true  —  is  it  possible 
that  my  husband  left  all  told  only  fifty  thousand 
francs  ? 

BOURDON 

Who  told  you  that.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Mr.  Teissier. 

BOURDON 

Fifty  thousand  francs  !  Teissier  was  too  quick  about 
it.  You  know  him  ;  he  is  n't  a  bad  man,  but  he  is 
brutal  when  it  comes  to  a  matter  of  money.  I  hope 
you  will  get  more  than  that  out  of  it,  Mrs.  Vigneron, 
and  I  will  do  all  I  can,  you  may  be  sure.  {Mrs, 
Vigneron  bursts  into  tears  and  sinks  upon  the  couch; 
Bourdon  goes  over  to  her)  So,  you  were  hoping  that 
Mr.  Vigneron's  estate  would  amount  to  a  great  deal.'' 
What  was  your  estimate.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  don't  know,  Mr.  Bourdon. 

BOURDON 

But  you  should  have  figured  up  what  your  husband 
left.  When  a  woman  loses  her  husband,  that 's  the 
first  thing  she  should  think  of.  {He  walks  away) 
However,  it  was  none  the  less  wrong  on  Teissier's 
part  —  and    I  '11    tell    him    so,    too  —  to    name    an 


ACT  n]  THE    VULTURES  63 

amount  at  random.  Business  is  n't  conducted  that 
way.  In  a  settlement,  the  way  to  begin  is  at  the 
beginning,  taking  up  the  most  urgent  matters  ;  then 
advancing  step  by  step  until  the  end  is  reached  — 
and  then  you  have  what  you  have.  (Returning  to 
Mrs,  Vigneron)  Have  you  made  any  decision,  Mrs. 
Vigneron,  about  your  real  estate?  There  your  ne- 
cessity is  manifest;    it  must  be  sold. 

MARIE 

How  much  do  you  think  it  would  bring  us? 

BOURDON  (going  over  to  Marie) 

How  much?  Nothing.  You  can't  count  on  any- 
thing. 

MRS.  VIGNERON  (rising) 

Then  what  is  the  advantage  in  getting  rid  of  it? 

BOURDON  (returning  to  Mrs.  Vigneron) 

What  advantage,  Mrs.  Vigneron?  By  doing  so  you 
remove  the  shackles  from  your  feet.  Believe  me,  I 
am  not  usually  so  downright  in  my  advice  as  I  am 
at  this  moment.  Each  day's  delay  is  filled  with 
grave  consequences  for  you.  While  you  are  deliber- 
ating, Catiline  is  at  the  gates  of  Rome;  Catiline  be- 
ing, in  this  case,  the  mortgages  that  are  eating  you 
up,  your  architect  with  his  bill,  and  the  civil  authori- 
ties, with  their  taxes  and  fees. 

[Teissier  reenters  at  the  left;  Blanclie  comes  in  he- 
hind  him. 

TEISSIER 

How  are  you.  Bourdon? 

BOURDON 

How  do  you  do,  Teissier.  I  was  just  explaining  to 
Mrs.  Vigneron  and  her  daughter  the  impossibility  of 
their  holding  on  to  their  real  estate. 


64.  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

TEISSIER 

I  have  nothing  to  say  as  to  that.  The  ladies  could  n't 
find  a  better  adviser  than  you.  They  are  in  good 
hands. 

BOURDON 

Mrs.  Vigneron,  please  look  at  the  thing  from  my 
point  of  view,  so  that  we  won't  misunderstand  each 
other.  I  don't  want  to  be  reproached  later  on  for 
what  was  n't  my  fault.  I  restrict  myself  to  this 
principle:  the  statu  quo  being  deadly  against  you, 
you  must  get  rid  of  the  statu  quo.  I  can't  say  that 
your  real  estate  is  well  situated,  or  that  this  is  the 
best  time  to  put  it  up  at  auction.  Far  from  it. 
But,  by  having  the  sale  at  the  most  favorable  time 
—  and  I  '11  look  out  for  that  —  and  getting  rid  of 
certain  obstacles,  together  with  some  smooth  work 
and  clever  advertising,  we  may  get  something  good 
out  of  it. 

TEISSIER  (aside) 

What's  that.''  What's  that?  (In  a  low  tone  to 
Bourdon)     Then  we  're  not  working  together  in  this  ? 

BOURDON  (in  a  low  tone  to  Teissier) 

Let  me  go  ahead.  (Going  over  to  Mrs.  Vigneron) 
Now,  then,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  think  it  over;  but  think 
it  over  quickly,  I  urge  you.  When  you  have  made 
up  your  mind,  please  let  me  know.  (He  makes  a 
move  as  if  to  go) 

TEISSIER 

Don't  go.  Bourdon,  without  saying  something  about 
the  factory. 

BOURDON 

The  factory  can  wait,  friend  Teissier.  I  want  to 
help  Mrs.  Vigneron  get  rid  of  her  real  estate  before 


ACT  n]  THE    VULTURES  65 

we  do  anything  else.  We  see  here  a  widow  and  four 
children  who  are  growing  poorer  every  day.  That 's 
a  mighty  important  state  of  things  ;  we  must  n't  for- 
get that. 
[Teissier  smiles. 
AUGUSTE  (entering,  and  in  a  low  voice  to  Mrs.  Vig- 
neron)   Mr.  Lefort  is  here,  ma'am. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Please  wait  a  minute,  Mr.  Bourdon.  After  hearing 
what  our  architect  has  to  say  you  may  change  your 
mind. 

BOURDON 

.Just  as  you  say,  madam. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (to  Auguste) 

Bring  Mr.  Lefort  in,  and  ask  Judith  to  come  here. 

[Lefort  enters. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (weeping,  her  handkerchief  in  her  hand) 

What  a  terrible  blow,  Mr.  Lefort  !    What  a  dreadful 

thing  !     My  poor  husband  !     I  shall  never  get  over 

his  loss. 
LEFORT  {he  has  vulgar  manners  and  a  powerful  voice) 

Come,   madam,   don't  cry  like  that.      With   a  little 

nerve  and  perseverance  you  can  fill  your  husband's 

boots.     (He  goes  up  stage) 

TEISSIER 

Hello,  Lefort  ! 

LEFORT 

Glad  to  see  you,  Teissier. 
[Judith  enters. 
MARIE  (to  Lefort) 

Were  you  very  much  interested,  Mr.  Lefort,  in  the 
buildings  entrusted  to  you.? 


66  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

LEFORT 

Yes,  miss.  Vigneron  was  more  like  a  brother  than  a 
client. 

MARIE 

VV^e  are  on  the  eve  of  making  an  important  decision  — 

LEFORT 

Ask  me  anything  you  want  to.  My  time  is  yours, 
my  money  is  at  your  service.  Vigneron's  children 
are  my  children. 

MARIE 

If  you  had  some  explanations,  or  even  some  project, 
to  let  us  hear,  please  tell  us  in  the  presence  of  these 
gentlemen. 

LEFORT 

I  am  ready,  miss.  These  gentlemen  don't  scare  me. 
It 's  a  way  of  mine  to  stand  right  up  to  everybody. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Sit  there,  Mr.  Lefort. 
LEFORT  (seated) 

Have  you  looked  at  my  memorandum,  madam?  No? 
That 's  bad.  It  contained  a  little  account  of  Mr. 
Vigneron's  real  estate,  showing  the  whole  business 
from  A  to  Z.  If  I  had  that  account  right  here  before 
me,  I  could  be  briefer  and  make  you  understand 
better. 

MARIE 

I  can  give  it  to  you,  Mr.  Lefort.  I  put  it  away 
myself. 

LEFORT 

If  you  please. 

[Marie  goes  to  the  writing-desk,  passing  in  front  of 

her  mother  and  Teissier,  who  are  seated  side  hy  side. 


ACT  n]  THE    VULTURES  67 

TEISSIER  {to  Mrs.  Vigneron) 
Is  your  daughter  methodical? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Very. 

TEISSIER 

She  's  likely  to  grow  up  to  be  a  clever  woman,  is  n't 
she.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Yes,  I  think  so. 

TEISSIER 

Is  she  good  at  figures.'^    {No  reply") 

BOURDON  {having  taken  the  memorandum  from  Marie, 
he  detaches  part  of  it  and  hands  it  to  Lefort)  That 's 
what  you  want,  undoubtedly.  If  you  don't  mind, 
I  '11  run  over  your  memorandum  while  I  am  listening 
to  you.     {The  two  men  exchange  hostile  glances) 

LEFORT  {stressing  each  phrase) 

In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Vigneron's  real  estate,  situated 
on  the  outskirts  of  Paris  near  a  railway  station,  and 
on  that  account  under  a  thousand  disadvantages, 
was,  at  the  price  he  paid  for  it,  a  sorry  bargain. 
To  speak  plainly,  he  was  a  sucker. 

BOURDON 

Stop!  Nobody  had  any  reason  to  deceive  Mr.  Vi- 
gneron. He  bought  this  land  hoping  it  would  be 
taken  by  eminent  domain. 

LEFORT 

By  whom.'' 

BOURDON 

By  the  railroad. 

LEFORT 

Great  j  oke,  that  is  !  It  was  the  railroad  that  sold  it 
to  him. 


C8  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

BOURDON 

Are  you  sure  of  that? 

LEFORT 

Absolutely  sure. 

BOURDON 

Well,  even  so.  Then  he  must  have  supposed  that  the 
city,  which  had  undertaken  some  big  work  in  the 
neighborhood,  would  need  that  land.  I  remember, 
now  ;    he  expected  to  do  business  with  the  city. 

LEFORT 

Huh  !  With  the  city  or  with  the  Turks  !  You  can't 
tell  me  anything  about  real  estate.  I  know  the  lay 
of  Paris  land  from  A  to  Z.  Well,  I  '11  go  on.  Mr. 
Vigneron  having  been  caught  for  a  sucker  —  I  say 
it  again  —  very  quickly  realized  his  foolishness  and 
wanted  to  dodge  the  consequences.  How  could  he 
do  it?  By  building  on  the  land.  Then  he  sent  for 
me.  He  knew  of  old  that  I  was  square  and  straight- 
forward, and  before  I  left  him  he  had  given  me  the 
work  of  making  plans.  Unfortunately  I  had  scarcely 
begun  the  work,  and  the  foundations  had  hardly  been 
laid  (he  accompanies  his  words  with  a  comical  panto- 
mime) when  Vigneron  moved  on  to  the  next  world. 

BOURDON 

We  know  all  these  details,  my  dear  fellow.  You  are 
wasting  our  time  in  telling  them  over  again. 

LEFORT 

The  heirs  are  in  a  bad  fix  ;  but  they  can  get  out  of 
it  and  make  something,  too.  They  can  command  the 
services  of  a  man  who  is  faithful,  intelligent  and 
highly  esteemed  throughout  the  building  profession 
in  Paris.     That  man  is  the  architect  who  served  the 


ACT  n]  THE    VULTURES  69 

deceased.  He  is  now  their  architect.  Will  they  lis- 
ten to  him?  If  they  ignore  his  advice  and  manage- 
ment (another  comical  pantomime)  their  goose  is 
cooked. 

BOURDON 

Now,  sir,  cutting  out  phraseology,  what 's  your  plan.? 

LEFORT 

Let 's  reason  it  out  from  the  least  favorable  hypothe- 
sis. Leave  Lefort  out  of  it.  He  put  in  an  honest 
bill,  without  quibbling  over  each  item.  He  asked  for 
nothing  more  for  himself.  Now  what 's  going  to  be- 
come of  the  real  estate?  I  repeat  that  it  is  situated 
far  from  the  centre  of  the  city,  and  I  add  that  it 
suffers  from  numerous  other  defects.  It  is  encum- 
bered with  mortgages.  These  are  just  so  many 
points  which  some  unknown  purchaser  could  turn 
against  the  owners.  (Volubly)  It  would  be  like 
this  :  somebody  would  depreciate  the  property,  pre- 
cipitate a  public  sale,  get  rid  of  any  honest  pros- 
pective buyers,  fool  the  courts  into  granting  a  judg- 
ment at  some  miserably  small  sum,  pack  the  auction 
(more  pantomime)  and  there  you  have  a  property 
reduced  to  nothing. 

BOURDON 

I  demand,  sir,  that  you  be  more  precise.  You  say 
somebody  would  do  this,  that  and  the  other.  Who 
would  do  it,  pray?  Do  you  know  that  only  one  per- 
son could  do  it,  and  that  you  are  slandering  the 
lawyer  who  has  charge  of  the  settlement  of  the 
estate.'' 

LEFORT 

That 's  you,  ain't  it? 


70  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

BOURDON 

I  am  not  speaking  for  myself,  sir,  but  for  all  mj 
brother  lawyers,  whom  you  are  libelling.  You  are 
attacking,  offhand,  the  most  respectable  body  of  men 
I  know  of.  You  are  bringing  under  suspicion  the 
Law  itself,  in  the  persons  of  the  officers  sworn  to 
execute  it.  Sir,  you  are  doing  worse,  if  it  be  possi- 
ble. You  are  disturbing  the  security  of  families. 
Really,  now,  it  's  rather  stiff  to  make  an  accusation 
like  this,  and  then  bring  in  a  bill  of  thirty-seven 
thousand  francs  ! 

LEFORT 

I  should  like  to  be  present  when  you  present  your 
bill. 

BOURDON 

Enough,  sir  !    Now,  briefly,  what  do  you  propose? 

LEFORT 

I  'm  coming  to  my  proposal.  I  propose  that  the 
Vigneron  heirs  carry  out  the  building  — 

BOURDON 

Well,  now,  that 's  what  I  thought  you  were  getting 
at.  You  are  the  architect,  and  you  propose  to  con- 
tinue the  building  operations. 

LEFORT 

Let  me  go  on,  sir. 

BOURDON 

It  is  n't  worth  while.  If  Mrs.  Vigneron  wants  to 
listen  to  you,  she  may;  but  I  can't  bear  such  ram- 
bling talk  any  longer.  How  much  money  can  you 
sink  in  it?  Mrs.  Vigneron  has  no  money;  of  that  I 
warn  you.  W^here  is  yours?  In  three  months  we 
should  be  back  at  the  same  point,  with  this  difference 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  71 

—  that  your  bill,  now  thirty-seven  thousand  francs, 
would  be  doubled,  at  the  rate  you  are  going.  Don't 
force  me  to  say  any  more.  I  take  your  offers  in 
the  spirit  they  arc  made.  I  don't  want  to  witness 
any  such  shady  transaction,  which  would  hand  the 
ownership  over  to  you  for  a  song. 

LEFORT 

Do  you  know  what  you  are  saying,  sir.?  Look  me  in 
the  eye.  Do  I  look  like  a  man  who  would  indulge 
in  shady  transactions.''  Upon  my  soul,  I  never  saw 
such  a  clown  as  you  in  my  life. 
BOURDON  {restraining  himself,  and  speaking  just  above 
a  ivhisper)  What  did  you  call  me,  you  humbug  ! 
{Mrs.  Vigneron  rises  to  intervene) 

TEISSIER 

Let  'em  go  on,  madam;    don't  say  anything.     Never 
interrupt  a  business  conversation. 
LEFORT  {to  Mrs.   Vigneron) 

I  give  in,  madam.  If  you  want  to  know  my  plan  and 
the  resources  at  my  disposal,  you  can  call  me  again. 
In  the  other  event,  you  will  please  settle  my  bill  as 
soon  as  possible.  I  have  to  advance  money  to  my 
clients;  while  lawyers  juggle  with  their  clients' 
money.     {He  goes  out) 

TEISSIER 

Wait  for  me,  Lefort.     We  '11  go  up  street  together. 
{To   Mrs.    Vigneron)      I   leave   you   in    Bourdon's 
hands,  Mrs.  Vigneron.     Profit  by  his  advice. 
LEFORT  {returning) 

I  forgot  to  say,  madam  —  was  it  with  your  per- 
mission that  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  came  to  my 
place  — .'' 


72  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

She  has  been  everywhere  !  I  gave  nobody  permission 
to  go  to  see  you,  Mr.  Lefort;  nobody.  And  if  she 
comes  again  — 

LEFORT 

She  won't.     She  went  down  the  stairs  quicker  than 
she  came  up. 
TEISSIER  (to  Marie) 

Good-bye,  Miss  Marie,  and  good  health  to  you.  (He 
leaves  her,  and  then  comes  back)  Stay  as  you  are. 
You  won't  lack  lovers.  If  I  were  not  so  old,  I  'd  get 
in  line.     (He  and  Lefort  go  out  together) 

BOURDON 

Well,  madam.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  have  I  done,  Mr.  Bourdon,  to  have  such  a 
scene  ? 

BOURDON 

I  shall  not  regret  that  discussion,  madam,  if  it  shows 
you  where  your  interests  lie. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Putting  aside  what  has  just  passed,  let's  look  at 
things  as  they  are.  I  agree  that  Mr.  Lefort  is  a 
man  who  lacks  good  breeding,  but  he  has  a  good 
deal  of  common  sense  and  a  knack  of  getting  things 
done.  After  all,  what  he  proposes  is  nothing  more 
than  what  my  husband  would  have  done,  if  he  had 
lived. 

BOURDON 

Are  you  serious,  madam,  in  what  you  are  saying.? 
Have  n't  you  learned  to  appraise  that  architect's 
offers  at  their  real  value? 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  73 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

By  taking  somebody  else  we  could  — 

BOURDON 

You  are  not  satisfied  yet?  (A  pause)  Come  here, 
young  ladies  ;  you  are  not  in  the  way.  Your  mother 
is  wandering  in  cloudland;  help  me  get  her  back  on 
earth.  Mrs.  Vigneron,  I  am  going  to  present  the 
matter  in  its  best  light.  Admitting,  for  the  sake 
of  argument,  that  the  real  estate  belongs  to  you  — 
forgetting  the  creditors  and  mortgagees  who  have 
claims  on  it  —  do  you  know  what  it  would  cost  to 
finish  those  buildings  of  yours,  of  which  the  founda- 
tions have  hardly  been  put  in?  Four  to  five  hundred 
thousand  francs  !  You  know  well  that  Mr.  Lefort 
has  n't  that  amount.  You  cannot  count  on  me  to 
get  it  for  you.  And  then,  even  if  you  could  get  it 
through  me  or  anyone  else,  would  it  look  well  for  a 
woman,  I  ask,  to  place  herself  at  the  head  of  a  large 
establishment  and  throw  herself  into  an  enterprise 
that  nobody  could  see  the  end  of?  This  question 
that  I  am  asking  you  is  so  serious  that  if  it  were 
brought  up  before  the  civil  authorities,  whose  duty 
it  is  to  help  you  bring  up  your  minor  children,  it 
could  be  opposed  on  the  ground  that  the  childrens' 
inheritances  —  what  little  they  have  —  were  being 
risked  in  mere  speculation.  (Speaking  solemnly) 
As  a  member  of  that  civil  board,  pledged  to  look  out 
for  the  best  interest  of  minor  children  —  the  greatest 
duty  in  existence  —  I  should  oppose  it  myself. 
{Silence)  Take  heed,  madam.  I  will  not  overstep 
the  bounds  of  my  duty  by  saying  anything  more. 
You  know  where  my  office  is  ;  I  will  await  further 
orders  there.     {He  goes  out) 


74  THE    VULTURES  [act  ii 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Let 's    talk    awhile,    children.      Don't    all    speak    at 
once,  and  try  to  listen.     Mr,  Lefort  — 
JUDITH  (interrupting) 
Oh,  Mr.  Lefort  ! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

You  don't  know  yet  what  I  was  going  to  say.  Per- 
haps Mr.  Lefort  did  express  himself  very  clumsily, 
but  I  believe  he  has  a  good  and  loyal  heart. 

JUDITH 

I  don't  believe  so. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Why.? 

JUDITH 

I  think  he  has  the  manner  of  a  swindler. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Oh  !  And  you,  Blanche  ;  do  you  think  Mr.  Lefort 
has  a  swindler's  manner? 

BLANCHE 

Yes,  somewhat.     I  agree  with  Judith. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

So  !  Anyhow,  his  advice  seems  better  to  me  than  Mr. 
Bourdon's.  All  Mr.  Bourdon's  amounts  to  is  that 
we  shall  sell  our  property.    What  do  you  think,  Marie.? 

MARIE 

I  have  n't  anything  to  say  just  yet. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

We're  making  splendid  headway,  are  we  not.?  — 
Well,  then,  what  do  you  think  about  Mr.  Teissier.? 

MARIE 

It  seems  to  me  that  if  we  don't  offend  him,  but  show 
him  a  little  regard,  we  may  get  help  from  Mr. 
Teissier. 


ACT  II]  THE    VULTURES  75 

BLANCHE 

What 's  that,  Marie?  Mr.  Teissier  is  the  most 
treacherous  and  dangerous  man  in  the  world. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Judith? 

JUDITH 

I  don't  know  who  is  right,  Marie  or  Blanche;  but 
the  way  I  look  at  it,  we  can't  count  on  getting  help 
from  anyone  but  Mr.  Bourdon. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  don't  agree  with  you,  dear.  Mr.  Bourdon  !  Mr. 
Bourdon  !  There  is  one  question  that  Mr.  Bourdon 
should  have  asked  me  right  off,  and  he  never  seemed 
once  to  think  of  it.  Then  I  noticed  something  ob- 
scure about  his  words.  What  did  he  mean  by  say- 
ing: "Catiline  is  at  the  gates  of  Rome"?  (To 
Marie)     Did  you  understand  that? 

MARIE 

Yes,  I  understood  it. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

You  did?  Is  that  so?  We  won't  talk  about  it  any 
more  ;  you  are  wiser  than  I  am.  But  Mr.  Bourdon 
could  have  spoken  to  me  about  Catiline  some  other 
time.  Why  did  n't  he  ask  if  we  needed  money?  Now 
listen,  children.  If  we  must  sell  the  real  estate,  we 
must.  What  we  shall  lose,  we  shall  lose.  But  re- 
member what  your  mother  says  ;  once  and  forever, 
as  long  as  I  live:   they  shall  not  touch  the  factory. 

MARIE 

You  are  wrong  there,  mama. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

As   long  as   I   live   they   shan't   touch  the    factory  ! 


76  THE    VULTURES  [act  n 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier  could  sell  it  to-day.  He  has  a  legal 
right  to  do  it. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

As  long  as  I  Hve  — 

MARIE 

There  is  a  law  — 

BLANCHE    AND    JUDITH 

If  there  is  a  law  ! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Come,  don't  bother  me  about  your  law.  If  I  should 
go  through  many  days  like  this,  I  could  n't  stand 
it;  you  would  soon  be  without  either  father  or 
mother.     {She  falls  upon  the  couch,  weeping) 

AUGUSTE  {entering) 

Here  are  some  letters  for  you,  ma'am. 

MRS.  VIGNERON  {to  Marie) 

Take  these  and  read  them,  dear. 

MARIE 

This  one  is  a  letter  from  your  dressmaker:  "Dear 
Madam.  We  take  the  liberty  of  sending  you  your 
bill,  and  beg  to  remind  you  that  it  has  passed  the 
ordinary  credit  limit.  Our  cashier  will  call  upon  you 
to-day.  Believe  us,  madam,  yours  very  truly. 
P.  S.  May  we  call  your  attention  to  a  brand  new 
dress  goods  called  '  short-term  mourning,'  which 
looks  well  on  young  women,  and  can  be  worn  by 
misses  with  equally  good  effect."  {She  opens  and 
reads  another  letter)  "  Dear  Madam.  Mr.  Dubois 
hereby  gives  you  permission  to  sub-let  your  apart- 
ment, which  will  not  be  difficult,  provided  you  make 
a  small  sacrifice.    Mr.  Dubois  would  like  to  do  more, 


ACT  n]  THE    VULTURES  77 

but  he  cannot.  If  he  should  permit  you  to  break 
a  lease  on  account  of  the  death  of  the  lessee,  he 
would  be  establishing  a  precedent  which  would  cause 
him  much  trouble."  {Third  letter)  "  Dear  Madam. 
I  sent  to  your  house  last  week  concerning  my  bill 
against  you,  and  my  young  lady  representative  was 
rudely  treated  by  your  servants,  and  could  not  make 
collection.  Not  being  able  to  reach  you,  I  do  not 
know  how  to  understand  a  delay  which  must  not  be 
further  prolonged.  I  do  not  run  after  business,  and 
as  you  know,  madam,  I  do  not  advertise  in  the  papers  ; 
I  leave  that  to  the  big  Parisian  houses  that  charge 
you  more  on  that  account.  If  I  am  able  to  make  hats 
at  a  surprisingly  low  price,  at  the  same  time  show- 
ing originality  and  superior  workmanship,  it  is 
merely  because  of  my  large  business  and  regular  col- 
lections." 

[Marie  prepares  to  read  a  fourth  letter.  Mrs.  Vi- 
gneron stops  her  and  begins  to  meep.  The  young 
girls  look  on  without  a  word,  with  bowed  heads, 
saddened  and  frightened. 

CURTAIN 


THE    THIRD    ACT 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  in  the  first  and  second  acts. 

I 

ROSALIE 

Sit  down,  ma'am. 
MRS.  DE  sAiNT-GENis  {hesitating  and  annoyed) 
I  don't  know. 

ROSALIE 

Do  as  I  tell  you,  ma'am.  Sit  down  there  and  be 
comfortable,  with  your  pretty  little  feet  on  this 
hassock. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Don't  urge  me,  Rosalie.  I  am  wondering  whether 
it  would  be  wiser  to  wait  or  to  come  again. 

ROSALIE 

Do  as  I  say,  ma'am.  Wait.  You  '11  get  me  in 
trouble  with  Blanchy  if  I  let  you  go  away  without 
seeing  her. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Blanche  will  see  me  a  little  later.  She  is  just  the 
one  I  came  to  see,  and  I  want  to  talk  to  her  about 
a  very  serious  matter.  I  did  n't  think  Mrs.  Vigneron 
would  have  company  at  luncheon. 

ROSALIE 

Not  company  ;  no,  there  's  no  company. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

The  ladies  of  the  house  are  at  luncheon;  is  that 
what  you  mean? 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  79 

ROSALIE 

Yes. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

They  are  not  alone,  are  they.'' 

ROSALIE 

No. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Then  there  is  somebody  with  them.? 

ROSALIE 

Yes.     (In  a  low  tone)     Mr.  Teissier. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Oh,  Mr.  Teissier!  (Coming  close  to  Rosalie)  He 
comes  here  now,  does  he? 

ROSALIE 

Oftener  than  folks  like  to  have  him. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

But  they  give  him  a  welcome? 

ROSALIE 

They  have  to.  The  young  ladies  are  right  in  not 
liking  him,  but  the  need  of  being  on  good  terms 
with  him  overcomes  that  feeling. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

On  good  terms  with  him?     What  for? 

ROSALIE 

For  the  sake  of  their  fortune. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Yes,  Rosalie,  for  the  sake  of  their  fortune  (moving 
away)  or  for  his. 

ROSALIE 

You  're  going  to  stay,  are  n't  you,  ma'am? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

No,  I  'm  going.  I  've  made  up  my  mind.  Mr. 
Teissier  is  here,  and  the  ladies  have  business  with 


80  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

him.  What  business?  I  don't  want  to  embarrass 
anybody,  or  pry  into  any  secrets.  {She  goes  toward 
the  door) 

ROSALIE 

Will  you  call  again,  ma'am  .f* 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

I  '11  call  again. 

ROSALIE 

Surely  ? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Surely.  Listen,  Rosalie.  If  Mrs.  Vigneron  and  her 
daughters  —  except  Blanche,  you  understand  —  wish 
to  go  out,  let  them  go  ;  don't  let  them  put  themselves 
out  for  me.  Blanche  is  the  only  one  who  need  wait 
in  for  me.  I  want  to  speak  with  her  once  and  for  all. 
You  are  her  old  nurse;  so  you  tell  her  to  keep  calm 
—  to  think  it  all  over  —  to  make  up  her  mind  to  the 
inevitable  —  that  it  is  n't  my  fault  that  her  father  is 
dead  —  that  she  must  take  into  account  her  financial 
condition  —  and  my  son  can't  be  responsible  —  that 
he  can't  —  not  by  any  means  —  Now,  Rosalie,  do 
you  understand  what  I  'm  asking  you  to  say.^* 

ROSALIE 

Certainly  I  understand,  ma'am.  But  you  must  n't 
expect  me  to  say  anything  that  would  distress  my 
little  Blanchy. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

There,  that 's  your  bell.  See  what 's  wanted,  and 
I  '11  find  my  own  way  out.    (She  leaves) 

ROSALIE 

She  gives  me  the  creeps,  that  woman  does.  I  cross 
myself  every  time  she  comes  in  and  goes  out. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  81 

[The  third  door  at  the  rear  opens.  Teissier  comes 
in  with  Marie  on  his  arm,  and  Mrs.  Vigneron  behind 
them.  Then  comes  Judith,  and  finally  Blanche. 
Rosalie  steps  aside  to  let  them  pass;  she  stops 
Blanche,  arranges  lier  dress  and  embraces  her,  then 
goes  out  through  the  open  door,  closing  it  behind  her. 

TEISSIER 

Do  you  mind  if  I  lean  on  you  a  little?  I  'm  not  used 
to  eating  so  much  at  luncheon,  and  with  such  nice 
people.     {Stopping)     What  did  I  say  at  the  table? 

MARIE 

Different  things. 

TEISSIER 

What  about? 

MARIE 

About  life  in  general. 

TEISSIER 

Did  we  say  anything  about  your  affairs? 

MARIE 

The  subject  did  n't  come  up.    {They  proceed,  going 
toward  the  right;    then  Marie  disengages  herself  and 
walks  away) 
TEISSIER  {following  her) 

Your  sisters  are  nice  ;  the  oldest  one  especially  is 
well  built.  Yet  I  prefer  you.  I  have  n't  always 
been  old.  I  can  still  tell  a  blonde  from  a  brunette. 
I  'm  very  much  pleased  with  you,  understand? 

MARIE 

Pay  a  little  attention  to  my  mother. 

TEISSIER 

Why  is  it,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  that  Gaston,  the  boy  that 
writes  such  fine  I  O  U's,  did  n't  have  luncheon  with 
us? 


82  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MRS.  VIGNERON  (with  soTTie  emotioTi) 
My  son  is  engaged. 

TEISSIER 

He 's  gone  soldiering.  That 's  the  best  thing  he 
could  do.  A  soldier  is  lodged,  fed  and  warmed  at 
the  expense  of  the  government.  What  risk  does  he 
take?  None  but  being  killed.  And  then  he  does  n't 
need  anything. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

My  son  did  what  he  wished;  but  he  will  be  sorry  for 
it  later.  I  wanted  to  arrange  with  you,  Mr.  Teissier, 
to  put  him  in  the  factory  ;  and  if  the  factory,  as  I 
believe,  does  n't  go  out  of  your  hands  or  ours,  Gaston 
would  take  his  father's  place  in  a  few  years.  (Silence) 

TEISSIER 

Have  you  seen  Bourdon.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

No.  Should  we  see  him? 
TEISSIER  (embarrassed  and  making  no  reply,  hut  turn- 
ing to  Marie)  Your  sisters  are  nice;  but  they  are 
city  women.  You  can  see  that  at  a  glance.  No 
color.  Looking  at  you,  nobody  would  ever  say 
that  you  had  been  brought  up  with  them.  In  the 
summer  I  have  roses  in  my  garden,  but  they  have  n't 
the  bloom  your  cheeks  have.  You  and  your  mother 
and  sisters  must  come  and  visit  my  country  house. 
You  are  no  longer  children,  so  you  won't  hurt  any- 
thing. You  can  have  luncheon  at  home  before  you 
start,  and  be  back  in  time  for  dinner.  You  have  n't 
many  diversions;    that  will  be  one  for  you. 

MARIE 

You  must  n't  expect  us  to  come  to  see  you,  Mr. 
Teissier,  before  our  position  is  easier.    You  know  we 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  83 

have  n't  progressed  a  bit,  just  got  more  tangled  uj), 
that 's  all.  We  are  being  tormented  now  by  our  old 
tradesmen.  They  have  become  very  impatient  credi- 
tors. 
TEISSIER  {embarrassed,  and  Tnaking  no  reply,  hut  turn- 
ing to  Mrs.  Vigneron)  If  you  want  to  go  on  with 
your  work,  madam,  don't  bother  about  me.  Your 
girls  will  keep  me  company  until  I  go. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Stay  as  long  as  you  please  ;  we  shan't  send  you  away. 
{Going  over  to  Marie)    Have  you  spoken  to  Mr. 

Teissier.? 

MARIE 

No,  not  yet. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Are  you  ashamed  to.f* 

MARIE 

Yes,  I  am  ashamed  to.  Twelve  thousand  francs  is  a 
big  sum  to  ask  for. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Let 's  not  ask  for  it. 

MARIE 

And  where  shall  we  be  to-morrow  if  that  dressmaker 
puts  her  bill  in  the  hands  of  a  sheriff.?  She  will  do 
just  as  she  said. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Do  you  want  me  to  take  Mr.  Teissier  aside  and  save 
you  from  doing  it? 

MARIE 

No.     This  is  the  time  to  show  courage,  and  I  am 
going  to  show  it. 
TEISSIER  {seated  on  the  couch  beside  Judith) 
Do  you  get  along  well  with  your  sisters.? 


84  THE    VULTURES  [act  hi 

JUDITH 

Very  well. 

TEISSIER 

Who  is  the  cleverest  of  you  three? 

JUDITH 

Marie. 

TEISSIER 

Miss  Marie.  (He  looks  at  her)  Does  she  think  very 
much  about  getting  married  ."^ 

JUDITH 

She  never  says  anything  about  it. 

TEISSIER 

Yet  people  think  she  is  pretty. 

JUDITH 

She  is  more  than  pretty  ;    she  is  charming. 

TEISSIER 

Exactly.  (He  looks  again  at  Marie)  She  is  n't  a 
living  skeleton,  like  so  many  of  the  young  girls,  and 
she  is  n't  a  heavyweight,  either.  Has  she  a  firm 
character  .î^  « 

JUDITH 

Very. 

TEISSIER 

Simple  tastes? 

JUDITH 

Very  simple. 

TEISSIER 

Is  she  the  kind  of  a  woman  who  would  stay  at  home 
and  like  to  take  care  of  an  old  person  .f^ 

JUDITH 

INIaybe. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  85 

TEISSIER 

Could  a  person  give  her  the  keys  of  a  house,  without 
being  uneasy  about  it?  {Judith  looks  at  him  in 
astonishment)  Then  what 's  she  thinking  of?  Why 
does  n't  she  have  a  talk  with  me?  {Rising  and  speak- 
ing to  Judith)  I  don't  want  to  keep  you,  miss.  Go 
over  there  {pointing  at  Blanche)  where  your  sister  is 
sitting,  looking  as  though  she  were  doing  penance. 
{Marie  approaches  him.  He  joins  her  and  they  come 
out  to  the  front  of  the  stage)  What  do  you  call  that 
little  thing  you  have  there? 

MARIE 

Just  a  purse. 

TEISSIER 

What  for? 

MARIE 

A  charity  bazaar, 

TEISSIER 

For  the  poor?  I  see.  You  're  working  for  them 
while  they  are  loafing. 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier,  my  mother  wants  me  to  ask  something 
of  you  that  she  herself  does  n't  dare  to  ask. 

TEISSIER 

What  is  it? 

MARIE 

As  I  was  telling  you  just  now,  it  seems  that  our 
tradesmen  have  got  their  heads  together.  Where  we 
once  could  n't  get  them  to  send  in  their  bills,  now  it 
is  a  question  of  which  can  get  his  money  first. 

TEISSIER 

These  people  are  within  their  rights  in  claiming  their 
due. 


86  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MARIE 

Unfortunatel}'^  we  have  n't  the  amount  necessary  to 
settle  with  them.  A  pretty  round  sum.  Twelve 
thousand  francs.  Mr.  Teissier,  please  lend  us  this 
much  more  ;  you  will  be  relieving  us  of  many  little 
embarrassments,  which  are  sometimes  worse  than  big 
ones.     (A  pause) 

TEISSIER 

Have  you  seen  Bourdon? 

MARIE 

No.     Do  we  have  to  see  Bourdon  .f* 

TEISSIER 

You  know  well  that  this  state  of  things  can't  last, 
either  for  you  or  for  me.  Twelve  thousand  francs 
that  you  want  and  twenty  thousand  you  owe  me 
make  thirty-two  thousand  francs  that  have  come  out 
of  my  pocket.  I  am  not  risking  anything,  of  course. 
I  know  where  to  get  back  that  money.  But  it  cer- 
tainly must  come  back  to  me.  You  won't  be  sur- 
prised to  learn  that  I  have  taken  steps  toward  that 
end.  Don't  cry  ;  don't  cry.  You  have  time  enough 
ahead  of  you  to  get  sunken  eyes  and  hollow  cheeks. 
Keep  your  twenty-year-old  advantages  ;  a  little  girl 
of  your  age,  blooming  and  flourishing,  is  unhappy 
only  when  she  wants  to  be.  Understand  me?  Only 
when  she  wants  to  be.  (He  quits  her  suddenly,  takes 
his  hat  and  goes  over  to  Mrs.  Vigneron)  Your  second 
daughter  has  just  told  me  that  you  need  twelve  thou- 
sand francs.  You  need  n't  add  anything  to  what  she 
said  ;  it  is  n't  necessary.  Just  you  wait  while  I  go 
and  get  the  money.     {He  goes  out  abruptly) 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  87 

MRS.     VIGNERON 

Thanks,  Marie  dear.  It  makes  one  feel  so  silly  and 
shamefaced  to  have  to  take  money  from  that  old 
codger  !  At  the  last  minute  I  really  came  near  de- 
ciding not  to  ask  him  for  it. 

MARIE 

It 's  done. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Judith  —  where  are  you  going,  child.'' 

JUDITH 

I  'm  going  to  leave  you  ;   I  need  sleep. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Stay  here,  please  do. 

JUDITH 

But,  mama  — 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (commandingly) 

Stay  here!  [Judith  obeys,  and  goes  over  to  her 
mother)  Isn't  our  situation  serious.''  Doesn't  it 
interest  you?     We  can't  talk  about  it  half  enough. 

JUDITH 

What's  the  use  talking  about  it.?  We  are  always 
saying  over  the  same  things  without  making  the 
slightest  decision.  Don't  3^ou  see  it  requires  a  dif- 
ferent kind  of  woman  than  you  to  get  us  out  of  the 
scrape  we  are  in? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Soon  you  '11  be  saying  that  I  am  not  doing  my  duty. 

JUDITH 

I  don't  say  that.  It  is  n't  your  fault  that  you  don't 
understand  anything  about  business. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Then  why  don't  you  take  charge  of  our  business 
affairs  ? 


88  THE    \ULTURES  [act  m 

JUDITH 

Excuse  me  !     I  can't  add  a  column  of  figures. 

MRS.    VIGNEEON 

Nobody  is  asking  you  to  add  a  column  of  figures. 
We  are  asking  you  to  be  here,  to  take  part  in  the 
discussion,  and  give  us  your  opinion  when  you  have 
any. 

JUDITH 

You  know  what  my  opinion  is  ;  and  it  won't  change. 
We  can't  do  anything,  and  there  is  nothing  to  do. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

But  suppose  they  are  robbing  us? 

JUDITH 

Well,  then  they  '11  rob  us.  You  can't  stop  them  and 
I  can't.  Neither  can  Marie.  She  ought  to  see  plainly 
that  we  must  wait  for  something  to  turn  up.  As  for 
me,  I  should  like  a  thousand  times  better  —  yes,  a 
thousand  times  —  to  settle  the  whole  thing  to-day 
and  take  what  they  leave  us,  because  they  really  are 
willing  to  leave  us  something.  Then,  when  we  no 
longer  had  to  think  about  the  past,  we  could  think 
about  the  future. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

You  talk  very  glibly  about  the  future,  Judith. 

JUDITH 

It  worries  me,  but  it  does  n't  frighten  me.  I  think 
Blanche  is  by  far  the  most  unfortunate  of  us.  She 
is  going  to  lose  the  man  she  loves. 

MARIE 

Nobody  said  she  was  going  to  lose  him. 

JUDITH 

On  the  contrary,  everybody  says  so.  It 's  as  clear 
as   daylight   that  Blanche  won't  be  married.      If  I 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  89 

were  in  her  place,  I  should  n't  wait  for  Mr.  de  Saint- 
Genis  to  ask  for  his  release  ;  I  'd  throw  him  over 
myself. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Now  just  see,  Judith,  what  silly  things  you  've  been 
saying  in  the  last  five  minutes.     First  you  hurt  me, 
and  now  you  have  discouraged  one  of  your  sisters 
and  made  the  other  one  cry. 
JUDITH  (going  over  to  Blanche) 
Are  you  angry  with  me.'' 

BLANCHE 

No,  I  'm  not  angry  with  you.  You  don't  know  Mr. 
de  Saint-Genis,  or  you  would  n't  say  such  things.  I 
was  very  glad  to  be  able  to  bring  him  a  dowry,  but 
he  won't  love  me  less  because  I  have  lost  it,  and  he 
will  have  just  the  same  desire  to  marry  me.  All  the 
trouble  comes  from  his  mother.  But  sooner  or  later 
mothers  have  to  give  in,  and  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  will 
do  just  as  the  rest.  She  will  find  that  the  wisest 
thing  is  to  give  her  consent,  when  she  sees  that  we 
would  marry  without  it.  You  are  right,  Judith, 
when  you  say  that  we  are  not  defending  ourselves 
very  well.  But  though  we  may  lack  decision  in  deal- 
ing with  our  business  affairs,  I  don't  lack  any  in 
regard  to  my  marriage. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Oh,  dear  !  I  don't  understand  you,  girls.  You  are 
always  talking  about  decision:  we  lack  decision;  we 
must  have  decision.  You  don't  say  anything  else. 
And  when  I  propose  some  real  idea,  you  are  the  first 
ones  to  throw  cold  water  on  it.  Come  now,  yes  or 
no  :  do  you  want  me  to  dismiss  Mr.  Bourdon  and  get 
another  lawyer? 


90  THE    VULTURES  [act  hi 


MARIE 

Who? 


MES.    VIGNERON 

Who?  The  first  one  that  comes  along.  {To  Judith) 
That  man,  for  instance,  who  sent  us  his  card. 

JUDITH 

Take  him  ;   I  'd  j  ust  as  lief. 

MARIE 

I  'm  opposed  to  it. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Well,  children,  I  '11  have  to  settle  it.  If  Mr.  Bourdon 
says  one  more  word  to  me  —  just  one  more  word  — 
that  seems  out  of  place  to  me,  I  '11  get  rid  of  him  and 
send  for  this  other  man.  But  first  of  all,  where  is 
this  man's  card?  (Silence)  Look  in  the  desk  for 
it,  Judith,  and  look  carefully.  Marie,  you  look  on 
the  piano,  perhaps  it 's  over  there.  Blanche,  you 
look,  too.  Do  something!  Look  on  the  shelf  over 
the  fireplace.  (Another  silence)  You  needn't  look 
any  more,  children.  I  have  it  in  my  pocket.  (To 
Judith)     What  are  you  laughing  about? 

JUDITH 

I  had  to  laugh.     I  was  thinking  that  our  enemies 
know  what  they  do  with  their  things. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (sadly) 

Are  you  going  to  begin  again? 

JUDITH 

No  ;  I  'm  not  going  to,  and  I  'm  sorry  for  what  I 
said.  If  I  said  anything  wrong,  I  did  n't  mean  to. 
I  wish  this  whole  business  was  over  with.  It  makes  us 
irritable  and  sour-tempered  ;  and  instead  of  fighting 
our  enemies  we  quarrel  with  one  another.     One  might 


ACT  ill]  THE    VULTURES  91 

think   that   we   should  have  loved   each   other  more 
when  we  were  happier  ;    but  the  contrary  is  true. 
(She  kisses  her  mother) 

^Marie    and   Blanche    make    up.      All    are    greatly 
affected. 
ROSALIE  (entering) 
Mr.  Bourdon,  ma'am. 

JUDITH 

This  time  I  am  going. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Go  to  bed,  children.     I  '11  talk  with  Mr.  Bourdon. 
l^The  three  girls  leave. 
BOURDON  (entering) 

Seeing  how  useless  my  previous  advice  proved,  Mrs. 
Vigneron,  I  had  intended  to  let  matters  take  their 
course  and  not  come  to  see  you  until  you  were  ready 
for  me.  Believe  me,  I  have  no  hand  in  the  bad  news 
I  have  been  asked  to  bring  you. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  am  beginning  to  get  used  to  bad  news,  Mr. 
Bourdon. 

BOURDON 

You  must,  madam,  you  must.  In  your  position, 
courage  and  resignation  are  of  prime  necessity. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

It  strikes  me,  Mr.  Bourdon,  that  my  affairs  give  you 
a  good  deal  of  trouble,  considering  the  little  you  get 
out  of  them.  I  have  just  heard  of  a  man,  very  up- 
right and  intelligent,  who  will  take  charge  of  them. 

BOURDON 

Very  well,  madam,  very  well.  Perhaps  it  would  have 
been  a  little  more  seemly  to  have  saved  me  this  visit 


92  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

by  letting  me  know  of  your  decision  earlier.     Never 
mind.    Shall  I  send  all  your  papers  here,  or  will  they 
call  at  my  office  for  them.'' 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (discoTicerted) 

But  I  have  n't  made  any  arrangements  with  this  man 
yet.     Wait  awhile  ;    there  's  no  hurry. 

BOURDON 

On  the  contrary,  madam,  there  is  hurry.  And  since 
you  have  found,  as  you  say,  a  capable,  true  and  tried 
man,  he  should  n't  lose  any  time  getting  acquainted 
with  the  details  of  your  estate  —  a  matter  of  which 
he  knows  absolutely  nothing.  He  is  a  business  man, 
I  suppose? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Who  told  you  he  was  a  business  man.? 

BOURDON 

I  guessed  as  much.  Would  it  be  indiscreet  of  me  to 
ask  who  this  man  is?  (Mrs.  Vigneron,  after  some 
hesitation,  takes  the  card  from  her  pocket  and  hands 
it  to  him-;  he  returns  it,  smiling)  One  last  piece  of 
advice,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  which  you  may  take  or  not,  as 
you  please.  Duhamel,  whose  card  this  is,  is  an  old 
lawyer  who  was  debarred  for  embezzlement.  Perhaps 
you  do  not  know  that  in  the  legal  profession  black 
sheep  are  summarily  expelled.  After  that  setback, 
Duhamel  set  up  a  business  office  near  the  Court 
Buildings.  It  is  n't  my  business  to  tell  you  what  goes 
on  in  his  office  ;  but  you  will  come  to  me  with  news 
about  it  before  long. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Tear  up  that  card,  Mr.  Bourdon,  and  tell  me  what 
you  came  to  see  me  about. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  93 

BOUEDON 

Mrs.  Vigneron,  you  really  deserve  to  be  left  in  this 
man  Duhamel's  clutches.  All  he  would  have  to  do 
would  be  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  another 
scoundrel  like  himself  —  Lefort,  for  instance  —  and 
that  would  be  the  last  of  Mr.  Vigneron's  estate.  You 
are  angry  with  me  because  I  spoil  your  illusions.  Am 
I  wrong  to  do  so?  Judge  for  yourself.  In  the  face 
of  your  obstinate  resolve  to  keep  your  real  estate  — 
a  resolve  I  do  not  favor  —  I  had  to  make  an  accurate 
survey  of  the  situation.  Well,  in  going  over  the 
bundle  of  mortgages,  I  found  that  one  of  them  had 
fallen  due.  I  wrote  immediately  to  ask  for  a  renewal. 
This  request  was  refused.  We  need  sixty-odd  thou- 
sand francs  to  take  up  this  mortgage,  and  we  need  it 
right  now. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  are  we  going  to  do.'' 

BOURDON 

That 's  what  I  am  asking  you.  And  that  is  n't  all. 
Time  is  passing;  are  you  ready  to  pay  the  inherit- 
ance taxes  .f* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

But,  Mr.  Bourdon,  according  to  you,  our  real  estate 
is  worth  nothing;  and  where  there  is  nothing,  the 
authorities  can't  claim  anything. 

BOURDON 

You  are  wrong.  The  authorities,  in  dealing  with  an 
estate,  chase  no  wild  geese.  They  collect  taxes  where 
they  see  the  chance,  regardless  of  who  ought  to  be 
paying  them. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Are  you  sure  of  that? 


94  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

BOURDON 

What  a  question,  Mrs.  Vigneron  !  Why,  my  office 
boy,  a  twelve-year-old  boy,  knows  those  things  as 
well  as  I  do.  Now  you  can  just  see  what  a  hard  time 
we  have  with  clients  like  you  —  entirely  respectable, 
of  course,  but  also  entirely  ignorant.  If  by  some 
inadvertence  we  had  not  taken  up  this  point  together, 
and  then,  later  on  —  in  going  over  the  accounts  after 
the  inevitable  sale  of  your  real  estate  —  you  had 
found  set  down  "  Inheritance  tax  :  so  much,"  who 
knows  but  you  might  have  said  :  "  Mr.  Bourdon  put 
that  money  in  his  own  pocket." 

MES.     VIGNERON 

Such  an  idea  never  would  have  occurred  to  me. 

BOURDON 

Well,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  you  are  a  little  suspicious  that 
I  am  not  fulfilling  my  duty  toward  you  in  all  re- 
spects ;  and  that  accusation  is  grave  enough.  But 
let  it  go.  While  you  are  floundering  about,  doing 
nothing,  waiting  for  something  or  other  to  turn  up, 
that  won't  turn  up,  Teissier,  like  the  business  man  he 
is,  has  gone  right  ahead.  He  has  put  experts  into 
the  factory.  They  have  finished  their  report.  In 
short,  Teissier  has  just  sent  me  instructions  to  put 
your  factory  up  for  sale. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  don't  believe  you. 

BOURDON 

What,  madam,  you  don't  believe  me.''  (He  takes  a 
letter  from  his  pocket  and  hands  it  to  her)  Teissier's 
letter  is  clear  enough;  right  to  the  point,  just  as  he 
always  writes. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  95 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Will  you  leave  that  letter  with  me,  Mr.  Bourdon? 

BOURDON 

I  don't  see  what  you  could  do  with  it,  and  it  ought 
to  remain  in  my  files. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  '11  return  it  to  you  to-morrow,  if  Mr.  Teissier  per- 
sists in  his  determination. 

BOURDON 

As  you  please. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

You  don't  know,  Mr.  Bourdon,  that  our  dealings  with 
Mr.  Teissier  have  become  very  friendly. 

BOURDON 

Why  should  n't  they  be  ? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

He  likes  my  daughters. 

BOURDON 

That 's  fine,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  that 's  very  fine. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Why,  he  even  took  luncheon  with  us  to-day. 

BOURDON 

I  should  be  more  surprised  if  you  had  taken  luncheon 
with  him. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Well,  we  have  let  Mr.  Teissier  know  about  our  strait- 
ened circumstances,  and  he  has  consented  to  lend  us 
a  pretty  round  sum  of  money  ;  and  it  is  n't  the  first, 
either. 

BOURDON 

Why  do  you  ask  Teissier  for  money?  Am  I  not  here? 
I  told  you,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  that  you  could  not  look 


96  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

to  me  for  four  or  five  hundred  thousand  francs  for 
imaginary  building  operations.  Teissier  would  n't 
let  you  have  it  either,  I  'm  dead  sure  of  that.  But 
it  is  I,  your  lawyer,  who  ought  to  provide  for  your 
everyday  needs,  and  you  would  have  pleased  me  if 
you  had  not  waited  for  me  to  tell  you  so. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Bourdon  ;  I  did  doubt  you 
for  a  moment.  You  must  n't  be  angry  with  me  ;  my 
head  is  whirling  in  the  midst  of  these  complications  ; 
and  you  were  right  when  you  said  that  I  am  ignorant. 
If  I  could  do  as  I  wished,  I  would  stay  in  my  bed- 
room and  mourn  for  my  husband  ;  but  what  would 
people  say  of  a  mother  who  did  not  defend  her  chil- 
dren as  best  she  could.'*  {She  sobs  and  throws  herself 
down  on  the  couch) 

BOURDON  {going  over  to  her,  and  speaking  softly) 
I  will  try  hard  to  get  Teissier  to  put  off  the  sale  of 
the  factory,  but  on  one  condition:  that  you  give  up 
your  real  estate.  {She  looks  at  him  fixedly)  You 
certainly  must  understand  why  I  suggest  this  condi- 
tion, which  is  wholly  to  your  advantage.  I  can't 
think  of  spending  useless  energy  and  serving  your 
interests  on  one  point  only  to  have  you  getting  me 
in  hot  water  on  another.     {Silence) 

MRS.  VIGNERON  {to  Rosalie,  who  comes  in) 
What  is  it,  Rosalie .? 

ROSALIE 

Mr.  Merckens  wishes  to  see  you,  ma'am. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  {rising) 

Very  well.  Show  him  in.  {To  Bourdon)  Do  you 
mind  having  Mr.  Merckens  with  you  a  moment,  while 
I  talk  this  over  with  my  daughters.^ 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  97 

BOURDON 

Go  ahead,  Mrs.  Vigneron  ;    go  and  talk  it  over  with 
your  daughters.    (She  goes  out  at  the  left) 
MERCKENS  (entering) 

How  d  'ye  do,  Mr.  Bourdon. 

BOURDON 

How  are  you,  young  man .''  How  have  you  been  since 
that  unlucky  dinner  when  I  saw  you  last.f* 

MERCKENS 

The  dinner  was  n't  bad,  but  unfortunately  we  had  to 
eat  it  on  top  of  a  rather  nasty  spectacle. 

BOURDON 

Right  you  are.  Poor  Vigneron  was  brought  in  right 
under  our  noses.  .  .   . 

MERCKENS 

What  did  you  have  in  mind  when  you  took  me  to  the 
restaurant  that  day.? 

BOURDON 

That  was  your  idea.  You  said  to  me,  as  we  were 
coming  out  of  the  house  :  "  I  don't  like  the  idea  of 
going  home  with  a  white  necktie  and  an  empty  stom- 
ach." I  said  :  "  Let  's  dine  somewhere,  and  then  think 
up  something  to  do  during  the  rest  of  the  evening." 
Well,  we  had  a  half-hearted  meal,  and  the  only  thing 
we  wanted  to  do  was  to  go  to  bed.  You  see,  people 
are  always  more  sensitive  to  the  death  of  others  than 
they  imagine,  and  it  is  particularly  the  case  with  a 
violent  death.  In  spite  of  yourself  you  can't  help 
thinking  that  the  same  thing  might  happen  to  you 
the  very  next  day  ;  and  you  don't  feel  much  like 
laughing  about  it. 

MERCKENS 

Are  you  waiting  to  see  Mrs.  Vigneron? 


98  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

BOURDON 

Yes.  I  ought  not  to  wait,  but  Mrs.  Vigneron  is  no 
ordinary  client  of  mine,  and  I  spoil  her.  You  don't 
give  lessons  here  any  more,  I  suppose. f* 

MERCKENS 

Miss  Judith  has  n't  taken  any  since  her  father  died. 

BOURDON 

If  you  '11  take  my  advice,  you  won't  count  on  having 
her  for  a  pupil  any  more,  and  you  '11  look  somewher- 
else. 

MERCKENS 

Why.? 

BOURDON 

I  know  what  I  'm  talking  about.  This  family's  new 
circumstances  are  going  to  force  them  to  economize. 

MERCKENS 

No.? 

BOURDON 

Yes. 

MERCKENS 

Really.? 

BOURDON 

Really.    (A  pause) 

MERCKENS 

But  Mr.  Vigneron  was  wealthy. 

BOURDON 

He  was  n't  wealthy  ;  he  made  a  lot  of  money,  that 's 
all. 

MERCKENS 

He  did  n't  spend  it  on  himself. 

BOURDON 

He  speculated  with  it,  and  that 's  often  worse. 


ACT  in]  THE    VULTURES  99 

MERCKENS 

I  thought  that  husky  chap  was  going  to  leave  his  wife 
and  children  a  fortune. 

BOURDON 

A  fortune  !  You  '11  do  me  a  favor  if  you  '11  show  me 
where  it  is.  Any  minute,  now,  the  Vigneron  family 
are  likely  to  find  themselves  in  a  bad  predicament; 
and  I  can  tell  you,  without  shouting  about  my  devo- 
tion to  their  interests,  that  they  '11  owe  it  to  me  if 
they  save  a  loaf  of  bread. 

MERCKENS 

Impossible  ! 

BOURDON 

That 's  just  where  it  stands,  young  man.  Keep  this 
news  confidential,  and  make  what  use  you  can  of  it. 
(A  pause) 

MERCKENS   (ill  tt  loW  VOÎcé) 

What  do  they  say  about  it  here? 

BOURDON 

What  would  you  expect  them  to  say.? 

MERCKENS 

These  women  can't  be  in  very  good  spirits. 

BOURDON 

Well,  what  has  happened  to  them  has  n't  been  any 
cause  for  rejoicing. 

MERCKENS 

Tears? 

BOURDON 

Tears  ! 
MERCKENS  (going  over  to  him  with  a  smile) 

Do  me  a  slight  favor,  will  you?  Be  good  enough  to 
tell  Mrs.  Vigneron  that  I  only  had  a  minute  to  spare. 


100  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

that  I  did  n't  want  to  bother  her,  and  that  I  '11  call 
again  shortly. 

BOURDON 

You  will  call  again? 

MERCKENS 

Not  very  likely. 

BOURDON 

Stay  awhile,  then,  now  that  you  are  here,  young 
man.  You  '11  be  repaid  in  listening  to  the  poor 
woman,  and  she  '11  be  thankful  for  a  little  kindness. 
She  is  really  beginning  to  doubt  whether  anyone  is 
interested  in  her  misfortunes. 

MERCKENS 

It 's  certain  that  Miss  Judith  won't  continue  with 
her  lessons? 

BOURDON 

That 's  very  certain. 

MERCKENS 

You  don't  see  anything  ahead  which  could  put  Mrs. 
Vigneron  and  her  daughters  on  their  feet? 

BOURDON 

I  do  not. 

MERCKENS 

Then  you  bet  I  'm  off.  That  suits  me  better.  No 
jabbering  nonsense  such  as  I  could  talk  to  Mrs. 
Vigneron  would  make  her  feel  any  better.  I  know 
myself  too  well.  I  should  probably  make  some  awful 
break;  while  you,  with  your  great  command  of 
language,  can  find  some  excuse  for  me.    How  's  that? 

BOURDON 

Just  as  you  say. 

MERCKENS 

Thanks.     Good-bye,  Mr.  Bourdon. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  101 

BOURDON 

Good-bye. 
MERCKENs  (returning) 

Up  to  what  time  are  you  at  your  office? 

BOURDON 

Till  seven  o'clock. 

MERCKENS 

I  'm  coming  after  you  one  of  these  days,  and  we  '11 
go  to  the  theatre  together.     Is  that  all  right? 

BOURDON 

Indeed  it  is. 

MERCKENS 

Which  do  you  like  best,  grand  opera  or  musical 
comedy  ? 

BOURDON 

Musical  comedy. 

MERCKENS 

Musical  comedy  !  You  want  something  light.  All 
right,  we  '11  see  that  kind  of  a  show.  Say,  I  hope 
this  time  we  shan't  have  our  evening  spoiled  by  an 
apoplectic  fit.     So  long! 

BOURDON 

So  long,  young  man. 

[Merckens  goes  out  at  the  rear  while  Mrs.  Vigneron 

is  coming  in  at  the  left. 

MRS.     VIGNERON 

Why  did  Mr.  Merckens  go  away  without  waiting  for 
me? 

BOURDON 

The  young  man  was  very  much  embarrassed,  Mrs. 
Vigneron.  When  he  saw  me  here,  he  understood  that 
you  were  already  occupied,  and  he  thought  best  to 
postpone  his  visit  until  some  more  convenient  time. 


102  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

He  should  n't  have  gone.  I  j  ust  told  my  daughters 
he  was  here,  and  they  were  going  to  entertain  him. 

BOURDON 

Well,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  what  is  the  result  of  your 
conference  with  your  daughters.'* 

MRS.     VIGNERON 

Nothing,  Mr.  Bourdon. 

BOURDON 

What  are  you  going  to  wait  for  now.'* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

We  shan't  do  anything  until  we  have  seen  Mr. 
Teissier. 

BOURDON 

And  what  do  you  expect  he  will  say  to  you.? 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

There  is  no  doubt  about  his  intentions,  that 's  true. 
He  wants  to  sell  our  factory  as  much  as  he  did  yes- 
terday. But  this  move  would  be  so  disastrous  for 
us  that  he  would  n't  dare  to  have  a  finger  in  it. 
We  are  going  to  have  a  straight  talk  with  Mr. 
Teissier  and  we  shan't  hide  the  fact  from  him  that 
he  is  n't  treating  us  square. 

BOURDON 

Not  square?  That's  rather  strong  talk.  I  doubt 
very  much,  Mrs.  Vigneron,  whether  you  can  change 
his  mind  by  using  that  kind  of  language  to  him. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  'm  not  going  to  do  the  talking  to  Mr.  Teissier. 
I  lost  my  temper  the  first  time,  and  I  could  easily 
do  so  again.  Besides,  considering  the  turn  our 
affairs  have  taken,  I  would  let  them  go  as  they  please 
now,  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  one  of  my  daugh- 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  103 

ters  shows  more  perseverance  than  the  rest  of  us  — 
her  sisters  and  m^^self.  Mr.  Teissier  really  seems 
to  be  well  disposed  toward  her;  so  perhaps  she  can 
succeed  in  making  him  change  his  mind. 

BOURDON 

Excuse  me  —  you  say  Teissier  has  taken  a  liking 
to  one  of  your  daughters.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

At  least,  Ave  think  so. 

BOURDON 

Which  one.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

My  second  daughter,  Marie. 

BOURDON 

And  does  Miss  Marie  reciprocate  this  kindly  feeling 
shown  by  Mr.  Teissier.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  in  the  world  are  you  thinking  about,  ]\Ir. 
Bourdon.  You  're  not  figuring  on  making  a  match, 
are  you.f* 

BOURDON 

Wait  a  minute,  Mrs.  Vigneron.  If  Teissier  were  dis- 
posed to  marry  this  young  lady,  she  would  n't  do  a 
bad  stroke  of  business  in  accepting  him;  but  I  had 
something  else  in  mind.  You  know  Teissier  is  no 
longer  young;  he  has  reached  an  age  where  the 
slightest  sickness  might  carry  him  off.  If  this  very 
sudden  affection  he  is  showing  toward  your  daughter 
should  lead  him,  later  on,  to  make  some  provisions 
for  her,  perhaps  it  would  be  just  as  well  if  you 
did  n't  antagonize  the  old  man  at  this  point. 


104  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

We  expect  nothing  from  Mr.  Teissier.  Let  him  live 
as  long  as  he  can  and  do  what  he  pleases  with  his 
money.  But  this  factory  he  wants  to  sell  belongs 
to  both  of  us,  and  not  to  him  alone.  To  do  as  he 
pleases  with  my  husband's  work  and  my  children's 
property  would  be  to  abuse  the  rights  given  him  by 
the  law. 

BOURDON 

I  won't  argue  further. 
ROSALIE  (entering) 

Mr.  Teissier  is  here,  ma'am. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Just  a  minute,  Rosalie.  (To  Bourdon)  Is  it  neces- 
sary for  you  to  meet? 

BOURDON 

Yes  ;  I  should  prefer  it.  Please  understand  per- 
fectly, Mrs.  Vigneron,  that  I  am  working  for  Teissier 
as  well  as  you.  I  make  no  difference  between  you. 
All  I  want  is  for  you  to  come  to  some  decision,  so 
that  I  may  know  what  to  do. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Very  well.    I  '11  send  my  daughter  in.    (She  goes  out 

at  the  left,  gesturing  to  Rosalie  to  have  Teissier  come 

in) 

[Teissier  enters. 

BOURDON 

You  here  —  you.? 

TEISSIER 

Yes,  I  'm  here. 

BOURDON 

What 's  this  I  've  been  hearing?  Nobody  sees  you 
anywhere  else  but  here. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  105 

TEISSIER 

I  have  been  here  several  times.    What  of  it? 

BOURDON 

You  are  hostile  to  the  interests  of  this  family,  and 
yet  you  sit  at  their  table? 

TEISSIER 

What  are  you  kicking  about,  as  long  as  what  I  do 
does  n't  interfere  with  you? 

BOURDON 

My  position  is  n't  an  easy  one  as  it  is.  You  are 
making  it  more  difficult. 

TEISSIER 

Go  right  ahead  as  we  agreed,  Bourdon  —  do  you 
understand?   Don't  bother  yourself  about  my  doings. 

BOURDON 

Miss  Marie  will  get  what  she  wants  out  of  you. 

TEISSIER 

Miss  Marie  will  get  nothing. 

BOURDON 

It  seems  you  have  a  weakness  for  this  young  lady. 

TEISSIER 

Who  told  you  so? 

BOURDON 

Her  mother. 

TEISSIER 

What  is  she  meddling  for? 

BOURDON 

You  had  better  get  ready  for  a  carefully  planned 
siege  on  the  part  of  your  simple  maiden.  I  warn 
you  they  are  looking  to  her  to  bring  you  to  terms. 

TEISSIER 

Take  your  hat.  Bourdon,  and  go  back  to  your  office. 


106  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

BOURDON 

All  right;  just  as  you  say.  {Returning  to  Teissier) 
I  needn't  wait  any  longer,  eh?  Shall  I  start  the 
thing  going? 

TEISSIER 

Sure!  {Calling  Bourdon  back)  Listen,  Bourdon  !  I 
told  you  about  my  talk  with  Lefort,  did  n't  I?  He  's 
an  ugly  customer,  and  he  's  right  after  us.  The 
wise  thing  will  be  to  go  easy  with  him,  don't  you 
think?  He  is  still  in  charge  of  the  building  opera- 
tions. 

BOURDON 

What?  Have  you  had  dealings  with  Lefort,  after 
that  wretched  scene  when  he  insulted  both  of  us? 

TEISSIER 

Still  thinking  about  that,  are  you?  If  we  should 
refuse  to  see  people  just  because  a  few  strong  words 
had  passed  between  us,  then  we  could  n't  see  any- 
body at  all. 

BOURDON 

Well,  it 's  your  business,  after  all.  I  don't  know 
why  I  should  mix  into  it.  I  promised  you  should 
get  the  real  estate,  and  you  shall.  The  rest  does  n't 
worry  me.  (Marie  enters;  he  goes  over  to  her  and 
speaks  in  a  low  tone)  I  leave  you  with  Teissier,  my 
dear  young  lady.  Try  to  convince  him;  a  woman 
sometimes  succeeds  where  we  fail.  If  you  get  any- 
thing out  of  him,  you  will  be  more  fortunate  and 
cleverer  than  I  am.     (He  goes  out) 

TEISSIER 

Here  is  the  money  you  asked  me  for.  You  told  me 
it  was  intended  for  your  tradespeople.     Meet  them 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  107 

yourself.  Look  sharp  at  the  bills  they  render  ;  don't 
be  afraid  to  beat  them  down  as  much  as  you  can  ;  and, 
above  all,  take  good  care  not  to  pay  the  same  bill 
twice.    {Detaining  her)    Where  is  my  receipt? 

MARIE 

I  '11  give  it  to  3'ou  by  and  by. 

TEISSIER 

I  ought  to  take  it  in  one  hand  while  I  am  handing 
over  the  money  with  the  other.  Just  this  minute  I 
am  flustered.  {She  goes  to  the  zerriting-desk  and  puts 
the  banknote's  in  a  drawer;  then  she  comes  hack. 
There  is  a  moment  of  silence)  You  have  something 
to  tell  me,  and  I  have  something  to  tell  you,  too. 
Come  sit  beside  me,  won't  you,  and  have  a  nice 
friendly  talk.  {They  sit  down)  What  do  you  figure 
on  doing? 

MARIE 

I  don't  understand  your  question. 

TEISSIER 

My  question  is  simple  enough,  nevertheless.  I  told 
you  before  that  there  would  be  fifty  thousand  francs 
coming  to  you  ;  no  more.  You  can't  think  of  hold- 
ing on  to  this  apartment  and  keeping  open  house 
until  your  last  cent  is  gone.  What  do  you  figure 
on  doing? 

MARIE 

A  relative  of  my  mother's  who  lives  in  the  country 
has  invited  us  to  come  and  settle  near  him. 

TEISSIER 

Your  mother's  relative  is  like  all  relatives.  He  made 
that  suggestion  thinking  to  get  an  invitation  in  re- 
turn; he  won't  cling  to  the  idea  when  it  will  be  his 
turn  to  carry  out  the  suggestion. 


108  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MARIE 

Then  we  '11  stay  in  Paris. 

TEISSIER 

What  are  you  going  to  do  in  Paris? 

MARIE 

My  oldest  sister  is  ready  to  give  music  lessons,  when 
the  time  comes. 

TEISSIER 

Good.  Your  oldest  sister,  if  she  carries  out  that 
idea,  will  promptly  let  the  rest  of  the  family  support 
themselves.  She  will  want  her  money  herself,  and 
she  will  be  right. 

MARIE 

But  I  count  on  getting  something  to  do,  too. 

TEISSIER 

What.? 

MARIE 

That's  it,  what?  I  don't  know  yet.  It's  so  hard 
for  a  woman  to  find  work,  and  she  gets  so  little  for  it. 

TEISSIER 

That  brings  us  to  what  I  wanted  to  say.  (A  pause; 
he  continues  with  some  hesitation  and  embarrass- 
ment) I  know  of  a  house  where,  if  you  want  to, 
you  can  come  to  live.  You  will  get  your  room  and 
board  there,  and  every  month  a  small  sum  which  you 
can  save  up  for  a  rainy  day.  You  will  not  have  to 
look  any  further  for  a  place. 

MARIE 

Whose  house?    Yours? 
TEISSIER  {with  an  equivocal  half -smile) 

Mine. 
MARIE  {after  a  display  of  emotion;    not  knowing  how 

she  ought  to  interpret  his  words,  nor  how  she  ought 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  109 

to  reply)  What  you  propose  is  impossible.  In  the 
first  place,  my  mother  would  not  let  me  leave  her. 

TEISSIER 

Yes  ;  I  had  an  idea  your  mother  might  interpose  some 
opposition.  But  you  are  of  age  now  and  can  con- 
sider your  best  interests  without  consulting  anybody. 

MARIE 

I  told  you  no,  Mr.  Teissier;   no! 

TEISSIER 

Would  n't  you  be  mighty  glad  to  let  your  family  stay 
in  the  ditch  and  go  out  and  do  something  on  your 
own  account?  That's  the  way  I  should  feel,  if  I 
were  in  your  place. 

MARIE 

That  is  n't  the  way  I  feel. 

TEISSIER 

What  good  do  you  see  in  all  scrambling  around  to- 
gether, instead  of  going  your  separate  ways  ? 

MARIE 

Just  the  advantage  of  not  being  separated.  (^Leaving 
him)  Sometimes  it  is  good  to  have  consolation  near- 
by. That  way  you  are  not  troubled  so  much  with 
certain  sudden  events  that  would  otherwise  be  dis- 
concerting.   {A  pause) 

TEISSIER 

It  is  some  time  now  since  I  began  coming  here.  I 
don't  stay  away  from  my  business  without  a  good 
reason.  You  are  n't  stupid  —  you  have  a  quick  wit. 
You  ought  to  be  able  to  see  through  it. 

MARIE 

I  was  thinking  of  something  else. 

TEISSIER 

What? 


110  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MARUE 

I  was  thinking  only  of  my  family.     I  can  think  only 
of  the  fate  that  awaits  them,  now  that  they  have  lost 
everything. 
TEISSIER  (with  a  smile) 

So  you  are  trying  to  get  the  best  of  me  and  worm 
something  out  of  me  for  them.'* 

MARIE 

Oh,  Mr.  Teissier!  I  have  enough  sorrow  without 
your  adding  anything  to  it.  You  want  to  know 
what  I  thought  ;  I  will  tell  you.  I  was  thinking  that 
you  are  no  longer  young,  that  you  live  a  very  dreary 
and  lonely  life,  that  you  have  no  children,  and  so 
you  like  the  company  of  other  people  —  those  were 
my  thoughts.  Yet  you  were  right,  I  admit.  We  did 
not  have  you  coming  here  before  my  father  died  ;  and 
we  should  n't  have  begun  afterward.  We  shall  have 
to  take  things  as  they  come,  meeting  our  difficulties 
courageously,  and  telling  ourselves  that  after  all 
women  are  never  unhappy  when  they  love  each  other, 
and  are  brave,  and  stand  by  one  another.     (A  pause) 

TEISSIER 

How  many  are  there  of  you?  You,  your  mother  and 
your  two  sisters.'' 

MARIE 

And  Rosalie. 

TEISSIER 

Where  does  Rosalie  come  in.'' 

MARIE 

She  is  a  saint.     She  brought  us  all  up. 

TEISSIER 

What  do  you  do  to  keep  your  servants?  I  could 
never  get  one  attached  to  me.     There  are  four  of 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  111 

you  —  Rosalie  does  n't  count.  Unfortunately,  four 
is  too  many;  you  can  understand  that.  Even  to 
please  a  little  friend  I  want  to  have  with  nic,  I  can't 
be  responsible  for  a  whole  family.  They  would  bore 
me  to  death. 

MARIE 

Nobody  asked  you  to;  and  nobody  dreamed  of  such 
a  thing. 

TEISSIER 

I  did  n't  want  to  tell  you,  but  you  guessed  it.  A  fel- 
low does  n't  complain  of  being  alone  as  long  as  he  is 
young;    but  at  my  age  it  is  tiresome  and  unsafe. 

MARIE 

If  you  are  alone,  it 's  because  you  prefer  to  be. 

TEISSIER 

I  ought  to  get  married.'' 

MARIE 

It  is  n't  necessary  to  get  married  to  have  people 
around  you.    You  still  have  your  parents. 

TEISSIER 

I  don't  see  them  any  more,  because  I  wanted  to  get 
out  of  reach  of  their  demands  for  money;  they  are 
starving.  I  want  very  much  to  get  hold  of  a  little 
woman  of  simple  tastes,  kind  and  trustworthy,  who 
will  conduct  herself  decently  in  my  house,  and  who 
won't  steal  everything  in  sight.  Perhaps  later  on 
I  '11  see  whether  I  ought  to  marry  her.  But  you 
women  are  all  lambs  before  marriage,  and  God  knows 
what  afterward.  I  would  regulate  my  conduct  ac- 
cording to  hers;  she  would  not  be  badly  off  while 
I  was  living,  and  she  'd  have  no  cause  to  complain 
after  I  died.  Married  or  not,  it  would  be  just  the 
same  for  her. 


112  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

MAKIE 

Take  your  hat,  Mr.  Teissier,  and  go  away.  I  don't 
want  to  have  you  near  me  another  minute.  I  be- 
lieve you  are  unhappy,  and  I  pity  you.  I  believe 
your  proposal  was  an  honest  and  proper  one,  and  I 
thank  you  for  it.  But  it  could  have  another  mean- 
ing, a  meaning  so  loathsome  that  my  heart  trembles 
at  the  very  thought  of  it.  Go  away. 
TEISSIER  (standing,  embarrassed,  bluhbermg) 

Just  stop  and  think  of  what  you  are  saying  to  me. 

MARIE 

No  more  !  Not  a  word  !  I  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  having  spoken  to  you  about  my  family;  I  ought 
to  be  ashamed  for  them  as  well  as  for  myself.  Think 
it  over.  Consider  what  kind  of  a  man  my  father  was, 
and  what  you  owe  to  his  honesty,  to  his  work,  to  his 
memory,  (She  goes  hurriedly  to  the  desk,  takes  out 
the  banknotes  and  hands  them  back  to  him)  Take 
your  money.  Don't  be  embarrassed  ;  take  it.  Mr. 
Bourdon  has  just  offered  to  help  us,  and  we  shall 
get  from  him  what  we  could  not  have  asked  of  you. 
Go  now!  Go,  before  I  call  Rosalie  to  show  you  out. 
(A  pause;  Rosalie  enters)  Here  she  is  now.  What 
is  it,  Rosalie  .P 

ROSALIE 

Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  is  here. 

MARIE 

Very  well,  show  her  in. 

ROSALIE 

What's  the  matter,  dearie;  you  are  blushing? 
(Looking  alternately  from  Marie  to  Teissier)  I  hope 
nobody  has  said  anything  to  you  they  shouldn't.'' 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  113 

MARIE 

Show  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  in. 

TEISSIER 

I  '11  go.  I  '11  stop  in  and  see  Bourdon  on  mj  way, 
as  to  whether  there  is  still  a  way  to  fix  things  up  ; 
but  don't  count  too  much  on  it.     Good-bye! 

ROSALIE 

It  is  n't  wise  to  leave  such  a  child  with  a  man  of 
his  age  ! 

l^Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  entering,  encounters  Teissier 
on  his  way  out. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

How  do  you  do,  Miss  Vigneron.  I  never  come  here 
these  days  without  meeting  Mr.  Teissier.  Is  that  a 
good  sign?  Are  you  going  to  come  to  terms  with 
him  ? 

MARIE 

No,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Pshaw!    I  thought  you  were. 

MARIE 

W^hy? 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

An  old  man  ought  to  find  it  pleasant  to  be  in  a  house 
like  yours. 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier  came  to-day  for  the  last  time. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Then  I  can  sincerely  say  I  am  sorry  for  you.  Is 
your  sister  at  home.'* 

MARIE 

Yes. 


114  THE    VULTURES  [act  hi 

MES.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Please  have  her  come  here.  Don't  bother  your 
mother  ;  it  is  n't  necessary  ;  I  can  see  her  another 
time.     I  want  to  talk  with  Blanche. 

MARIE 

She  '11  be  right  in.    {Goes  out) 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

It  is  decidedly  better  to  have  a  talk  with  this  young 
woman  and  tell  her  straight  out  that  the  marriage  is 
not  postponed,  but  broken  off.  It  is  better  for  her 
to  know  where  she  stands,  and  it  will  clear  my  own 
mind,  too.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  George  was 
going  contrary  to  my  wishes.  He  clung  to  his  sweet- 
heart, and  wanted  to  marry  her.  Fortunately  an- 
other good  match  came  along,  and  I  gave  him  his 
choice  —  to  obey  me  or  never  see  me  again.  He  gave 
in.  But  what  a  brigand  a  young  man  twenty-three 
years  old  can  be  !  And  as  for  this  giddy  miss,  who 
could  n't  wait  until  she  was  married  —  well,  so  much 
the  worse  for  her. 
BLANCHE  (entering) 

Oh,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  ! 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

How  do  you  do,  child  ;  how  do  you  do. 

BLANCHE 

Give  me  a  good  hug! 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Of  course  I  will. 

BLANCHE 

You  know  I  love  you  so  much. 

MRS.  DE  SAINT-GENIS 

Come,  Blanche,  dear,  don't  get  so  excited.  I  have 
come  to-day  to  talk  seriously  with  you;    so  listen  to 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  115 

me  like  the  great  big  woman  you  are.  It  is  time,  at 
your  age,  to  use  a  little  reason.  {She  sits  down) 
My  son  loves  you,  child;  I  tell  you  very  frankly, 
he  loves  you  a  great  deal.  Don't  interrupt  me.  I 
know,  too,  that  you  feel  somewhat  the  same  toward 
him  —  a  light,  thoughtless  affection  such  as  young 
girls  often  have  when  they  meet  a  nice  young  man. 

BLANCHE 

Oh,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  you  are  disparaging  a  feel- 
ing which  goes  very  much  deeper  than  that. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Well,  I  was  wrong,  then.  Love  is  a  very  fine  thing, 
very  vague  and  poetic  ;  but  a  passion,  however  great 
it  may  be,  never  lasts  very  long,  and  never  gets  any- 
where. I  know  what  I  am  talking  about.  You  can't 
pay  the  rent  and  the  baker's  bill  with  that  kind  of 
currency.  You  know  I  am  not  rich;  my  son's  posi- 
tion is  not  yet  assured;  and  certain  deplorable  cir- 
cumstances have  endangered  your  domestic  situation, 
and  perhaps  will  ruin  you.  Now,  my  child,  I  want 
to  ask  you  if  under  these  circumstances  it  would  be 
very  discreet  to  go  on  with  a  marriage  which  promises 
so  unfavorably.'' 
BLANCHE  (quickly) 

We  ought  to  be  married,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  and 
we  are  going  to  be. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS    {sWeetly) 

You  are,  if  I  say  so. 

BLANCHE 

You  will  give  your  consent. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

I  don't  think  so. 


116  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

BLANCHE 

Yes,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  ;  yes,  you  will  !  There  are 
affections  so  sincere  that  even  a  mother  has  no  right 
to  come  between  them.  There  are  promises  so  sacred 
that  a  man  is  dishonored  if  he  does  not  fulfil  them. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

What  promises  are  you  talking  about?  (Silence)  I 
admit,  if  that  suits  you,  that  a  marriage  was  planned 
between  you  and  my  son;  but  it  was  subject  to  cer- 
tain conditions,  and  it  is  not  my  fault  if  you  cannot 
live  up  to  them.  I  was  hoping,  child,  you  would 
think  of  that  yourself.  I  was  hoping  you  would  bow 
in  submission  before  a  changed  situation  which  is 
nobody's  fault,  but  which  necessarily  alters  the  ex- 
pectations of  you  both. 

BLANCHE 

George  does  not  talk  that  way,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis. 
His  expectations  are  the  same  as  ever.  The  loss  of 
our  money  has  n't  affected  him  in  the  least  bit,  and 
I  think  he  is  only  more  eager  to  marry  me. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Leave  my  son  out  of  the  matter,  won't  you.''  I  tell 
him  every  day  he  is  too  young  yet  to  know  what  he 
does  or  says. 

BLANCHE 

George  is  twenty-three. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Twenty-three  !    Indeed  ! 

BLANCHE 

At  that  age,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  a  man  has  pas- 
sions, and  will-power,  and  certain  rights. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  117 

MES.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

You  insist  on  talking  about  my  son  —  very  well, 
we  '11  talk  about  him.  Are  you  so  sure  of  his  feel- 
ings? I  don't  see  them  in  the  same  light  as  you. 
Placed,  as  he  is,  between  an  affection  which  is  dear 
to  him  and  a  future  in  which  he  is  interested,  the 
poor  boy  is  uncertain,  hesitating. 
BLANCHE  (rising  suddenly) 

You  are  deceiving  me,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

No,  child,  I  am  not  deceiving  you  —  no,  indeed  !  I 
have  given  my  son  the  benefit  of  my  serious  reflection, 
and  I  should  be  sorry  for  him  if  he  did  not  make 
good  use  of  it.  Another  thing:  do  we  ever  know 
what  is  going  on  in  a  man's  brain.''  George  is  no 
more  sincere  than  the  next  man.  Perhaps  he  is  only 
waiting  for  my  order  to  get  out  of  an  embarrassing 
situation. 

BLANCHE 

Well,  give  him  that  order. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

He  would  obey  it. 

BLANCHE 

No,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

I  assure  you  he  would,  even  if  reluctantly. 

BLANCHE 

If  it  comes  to  that,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  your  son 
would  decide  to  confess  to  you  something  he  has 
withheld  out  of  respect  for  me. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

What  confession.''  (Silence)  So!  I  thought  you 
would  be  the  first  one  to  break  the  reserve  on  that 


118  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

subject.  You  may  spare  yourself  any  delicate  con- 
fidence. I  know  all  about  it.  (Blanche,  confused 
and  blushing,  rums  to  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  and  throws 
herself  at  her  feet,  with  her  head  on  the  older  woman's 
knees;  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  rebukes  her,  caressing  her 
all  the  while)  I  don't  care  to  inquire,  child,  whether 
you  or  George  was  responsible.  It  is  your  mother 
and  I  who  are  at  fault,  for  leaving  you  two  children 
together  when  you  should  have  been  watched.  You 
see,  I  do  not  attach  any  undue  importance  to  the 
result  of  a  moment  of  forgetfulness,  justified  by  your 
youth,  and  all  the  surrounding  circumstances.  You 
ought  to  want  your  fault  to  remain  a  secret  ;  my  son 
is  an  honorable  man  who  would  never  betray  you. 
So  much  said,  the  next  question  is  :  is  it  necessary 
for  both  of  you  to  sacrifice  your  whole  lives  for  the 
sake  of  a  slip.'*    Wouldn't  it  be  better  to  forget  it.? 

BLANCHE  (rising) 
Never.    (A  pause) 

MRS.  DE  SAINT-GENIS  (she  has  risen,  and  her  tone 
changes)  You  will  not  be  surprised,  Blanche,  if  my 
son  does  n't  come  here  any  more. 

BLANCHE 

I  want  to  hear  that  from  him. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Are  you  hoping  he  will  disobey  his  mother? 

BLANCHE 

Yes;   to  do  his  duty. 

MRS.  DE  SAINT-GENIS 

You  should  not  have  forgotten  yours,  in  the  first 
place. 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  119 

BLANCHE 

Go  ahead,  wound  me,  humiliate  me;  I  know  I  de- 
serve it. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

I  feel  more  like  pitying  you,  Blanche,  than  hurting 
you.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  a  young  girl,  after  a 
misfortune  like  yours,  should  bow  her  head  and 
submit. 

BLANCHE 

You  shall  see,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis,  what  a  young 
girl  can  do  toward  getting  the  reparation  due  her. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Well,  what  will  you  do-f* 

BLANCHE 

I  '11  find  out  first  whether  your  son  has  two  kinds 
of  talk,  one  for  you  and  another  for  me.  I  don't 
say  yet  that  he  has.  He  knows  what  you  want,  and 
SO  he  conceals  his  own  thoughts  from  you.  But  if  I 
am  dealing  with  a  coward  who  hides  behind  his 
mother's  skirts,  he  need  n't  think  he  can  get  rid  of 
me  so  easily.  Everywhere,  everywhere  he  goes,  I 
shall  injure  him.  I  '11  ruin  his  standing,  and  spoil 
his  future. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

You  '11  get  yourself  talked  about  that  way  ;  that 's 
all.  Perhaps  that 's  what  you  want  to  do.  Fortu- 
nately, your  mother  will  stop  that.  She  '11  think  a 
stain  on  the  family's  name  is  enough  without  adding 
a  scandal  to  it.  Good  day,  Blanche. 
BLANCHE  (holding  her) 

Don't  go,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS    {sWeCtly) 

We  have  nothing  more  to  say. 


120  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

BLANCHE 

Stay  here.  See,  I  am  weeping!  I  am  suffering! 
Feel  my  hand  ;    I  am  burning  up  with  fever. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Yes  ;  I  understand  the  frame  of  mind  you  are  in  ; 
but  that  will  pass.  Whereas,  if  you  should  be  mar- 
ried to  my  son,  your  regrets  and  his  would  last 
forever. 

BLANCHE 

We  love  each  other. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

To-day,  yes  —  but  to-morrow.'* 

BLANCHE 

Give  us  your  consent,  I  implore  you. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Must  I  repeat  that  word  you  just  said  to  me? 
Never  ! 

[Blanche  leaves  her  and  walks  hack  and  forth  across 
the  stage  in  a  state  of  great  emotion  and  violent 
grief;    then  she  drops  into  an  armchair. 

MRS.  DE  SAINT-GENIS  {going  Up  to  Blanche) 

I  am  very  sorry,  child,  to  seem  so  cruel  and  to  leave 
you  in  this  condition.  But  I  am  right;  absolutely 
right.  A  woman  of  my  age  and  experience,  who  has 
seen  all  there  is  to  see  in  this  world,  knows  the  true 
value  of  things  and  does  n't  exaggerate  one  thing  at 
the  expense  of  another. 

BLANCHE  {throwing  herself  on  her  knees) 

Listen,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis.  What  will  become  of 
me  if  your  son  does  not  marry  me?  It  is  his  duty. 
There  is  nothing  nobler  or  kinder  in  a  man  than  to 
cling  to  the  woman  he  loves.     Believe  me,  if  it  were 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  121 

an  ordinary  engagement,  I  should  n't  humiliate  my- 
self to  the  extent  of  holding  him  back.  Yes,  I  should 
break  my  heart  rather  than  offer  it  to  one  who  dis- 
dained it,  or  was  unworthy  of  it.  But  your  son  must 
marry  me  ;  I  say  again  it  is  his  duty.  Everything 
gives  way  before  that  fact.  You  speak  about  the 
future.  The  future  will  be  as  he  pleases.  I  am 
thinking  only  of  the  past.  I  should  die  of  shame  and 
sorrow. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Child  that  you  are,  to  speak  of  dying  at  your  age! 
Come,  get  up  and  listen  to  me  now.  I  see  that  you 
really  do  love  my  son  more  than  I  thought,  if  you 
still  cling  to  a  boy  who  is  almost  poverty-stricken. 
But  if  I  should  consent  to  this  marriage,  in  a  year 
—  yes,  in  six  months,  you  would  bitterly  reproach 
me  for  my  weakness.  Love  would  pass,  but  you 
would  have  a  household  still.  What  do  you  think 
would  be  your  lot  then.''  Shabby,  worried,  vulgar, 
nursing  your  children  yourself,  while  your  discon- 
tented husband  would  be  reproaching  you  all  the  time 
on  account  of  the  sacrifice  he  had  made  for  you. 
Do  what  I  ask.  Make  the  sacrifice  yourself  instead. 
Can't  you  see  how  different  all  will  be  then.''  George 
will  not  have  abandoned  you  ;  it  will  be  you  who  have 
dismissed  him  generously.  He  will  be  under  obliga- 
tion to  you.  You  will  hold  forever  a  place  way  down 
deep  in  his  heart.  Men  always  remain  sensitive  to 
the  memory  of  a  woman  they  have  truly  loved,  even 
for  an  hour.  It  is  so  rare  !  And  what  will  happen 
to  you  after  that.?  I  '11  tell  you.  Little  by  little  the 
love  for  my  son,  which  seems  so  tremendous  to  you 
just  now,  will  disappear.     Yes;    quicker  than  you 


122  THE    VULTURES  [act  ra 

think.  You  are  young,  pretty,  full  of  charm  for 
young  men.  Ten,  yes,  twenty,  young  fellows  will 
come  along.  You  will  choose,  not  the  most  attractive, 
but  the  one  who  is  best  off.  And  on  your  wedding 
day  you  will  think  of  me  and  say  to  yourself  :  "  Mrs. 
de  Saint-Genis  was  right." 

BLANCHE 

What  kind  of  woman  are  you,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis, 
to  give  me  such  advice  as  that.'*  What  would  your 
son  say  if  he  knew  it.^*  I  would  rather  be  his  mis- 
tress than  the  wife  of  another  man. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

His  mistress  !  Pretty  words  to  come  from  you  !  My 
son  shall  know  what  you  have  just  said.  It 's  one 
more  sign  of  your  waywardness. 

BLANCHE 

No,  no,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis  ;  don't  repeat  that 
awful  word.     I  blushed  when  I  said  it. 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

His  mistress  !  Evidently  you  can  stand  anything  ; 
so  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all.  I  should  never  have 
broken  off  your  marriage  for  a  matter  of  dollars 
and  cents.  But  I  want  my  son  to  have  a. wife  whose 
past  is  above  suspicion,  and  who  will  give  him  no 
anxiety  for  the  future.    [She'  goes  toward  the  door) 

BLANCHE 

Oh,  oh,  oh!  You  insult  me,  Mrs.  de  Saint-Genis, 
without  any  reason  —  without  pity  ! 

MRS.    DE    SAINT-GENIS 

Let  me  go,  young  woman.  His  mistress  !  Why, 
that 's  the  talk  of  a  fallen  woman  !  (She  repulses 
Blanche  gently  and  goes  out) 


ACT  111]  THE    VULTURES  123 

BLANCHE 

A  fallen  woman  !  She  dares  to  call  me  —  Oh,  God  ! 
{She  bursts  into  tears)  Oh,  it 's  all  over  now  !  George 
is  weak,  his  mother  controls  him  ...  he  will  obey 
her.  A  fallen  woman!  {She  weeps  increasingly) 
A  fine  fellow  like  him  !  Not  at  all  like  that  woman  ! 
And  yet  under  her  thumb  !  ...  I  can't  stand  it. 
A  little  while  ago  my  hands  were  burning  hot;  now 
they  are  cold  as  ice.  {She  rings  and  comes  to  the 
front  of  the  stage;  she  speaks  in  a  broken  voice) 
He  is  young  .  .  .  barely  twenty-three  .  .  .  gentle, 
refined,  charming  .  .  .  some  other  woman  will  love 
him  and  marry  him. 

ROSALIE  {entering) 

Is  it  you,  dearie,  who  rang  for  me.'' 

BLANCHE  {goiîig  to  her  sadly) 

I  'm  cold,  nursey.     Throw  something  over  me. 

ROSALIE  {having  scrutinized  her) 

I  'm  going  to  put  you  to  bed  ;  that  '11  be  much  better. 

BLANCHE 

No. 

ROSALIE 

Do  as  I  tell  you,  if  you  don't  want  to  be  sick. 

BLANCHE 

Oh,  yes  ;   I  am  going  to  be  sick. 

ROSALIE 

Come,  Rosalie  is  going  to  undress  you.  It  won't  be 
the  first  time. 

BLANCHE 

Call  mama. 

ROSALIE 

You  don't  need  your  mother  ;  I  'm  here. 


124  THE    VULTURES  [act  m 

BLANCHE 

I  'm  not  going  to  be  married,  Rosalie. 

ROSALIE 

Well,  it 's  an  ill  wind  that  blows  no  good  !  We  've 
spoiled  you  ;  but  not  enough  to  make  you  prefer  that 
she-devil  and  her  monkey.  That 's  what  they  are. 
That  marriage,  I  tell  you,  was  n't  the  right  kind  for 
you.  If  they  had  listened  to  your  father  and  me, 
it  would  n't  have  been  considered  a  minute. 
BLANCHE  (out  of  her  head) 

My  father  !  I  see  my  father  now  !  He  's  reaching 
out  his  arms  to  me  and  beckoning  me  to  come  with 
him. 

ROSALIE 

Come  and  lie  down,  Blanchy. 

BLANCHE 

Your  Blanchy  is  a  fallen  woman  !  You  did  n't  know 
it.     I  'm  a  fallen  woman  ! 

ROSALIE 

Don't  talk  that  way,  dearie  ;  it  is  n't  nice.  Come, 
come  with  your  old  nursey. 

BLANCHE 

Oh,  I  can't  bear  it!    (She  cries  out)    Marie!  Marie! 
Marie  !    (She  grows  weak  in  Rosalie's  arms  and  slips 
little  hy  little  to  the  floor) 
MARIE    (entering   and   throwing   herself  down   hy  her 
sister)    Blanche  !    Blanche  ! 

ROSALIE 

Keep  still,  girlie;    it 's  no  use,  she  can't  hear.     Take 
her  up  gently,  poor  lamb,  and  we  '11  put  her  to  bed. 
BLANCHE  (murmuring) 
Fallen  woman  ! 


ACT  m]  THE    VULTURES  125 

MRS.  VIGNERON  {appearing) 

What's  the  matter?  {She  throws  herself  down  by 
Blanche) 

ROSALIE 

Come  away  from  her,  ma'am  ;  you  '11  bother  us  more 
than  you  '11  help.    {Judith  appears) 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Judith,  come  here.  {They  walk  aside  together)  You 
were  right,  Judith.  We  've  got  nothing  in  the  world. 
They  're  putting  your  sister  to  bed  ;  to-morrow  it 
will  be  your  turn,  and  the  next  day  mine.  You  still 
think  the  best  way  is  to  settle  everything.'* 

JUDITH 

Yes;   I  still  think  so. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Good.  Take  Rosalie  with  you  and  go  to  see  Mr. 
Bourdon.  Tell  him  I  accept  everything,  approve 
everything,  and  all  I  want  now  is  to  have  it  over 
with.  You  can  add  that  we  are  just  as  much  in  a 
hurry  as  he  is.    That 's  your  idea,  too.'* 

JUDITH 

That 's  my  idea. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Go  ahead  then.  {They  separate)  I  should  like  to 
keep  what  belongs  to  me  ;  but  the  first  thing  is  to 
save  my  children. 

CURTAIN 


THE    FOURTH    ACT 

A  cheaply  furnished  dining-room,  with  a  shabby-gen- 
teel look.  Here  and  there  a  few  chairs;  in  one  place 
everything  is  reminiscent  of  the  furniture  of  the  pre- 
vious acts,  and  plainly  not  fitting  these  new  surround- 
ings. There  are  two  single  doors,  one  at  the  left  and  the 
other  at  the  back.  At  the  rear,  to  the  right,  a  mahogany 
table  covered  with  red  oilcloth  stands  against  the  wall; 
on  this  table  appears  a  loaf  of  bread;  also  cups  and 
other  dishes. 

ROSALIE 

Come  in,  Mr.   Merckens.      They  '11  be  glad  to  see 
somebody  they  know. 
MERCKENS  {having  looked  about  him) 

Well,  well  !  The  lawyer  was  n't  lying  to  me.  This 
is  poverty,  sure  enough! 

ROSALIE 

You  're  looking  at  our  new  home?  Yes,  it  is  n't  very 
much!  Oh,  Lord;  yesterday  and  to-day  are  two 
different  things. 

MERCKENS 

What 's  happened  to  the  family  ? 

ROSALIE 

Ruined,  Mr.  Merckens.  My  poor  missus  and  the 
girls  have  lost  everything.  I  'm  not  saying  how  it 
happened,  but  I  've  got  my  opinion,  and  I  '11  keep  it, 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  127 

too.  You  see,  when  business  men  get  into  a  house 
where  a  person  has  just  died,  you  may  as  well  say: 
"  Here  come  the  vultures."  They  don't  leave  any- 
thing they  can  carry  away. 

MERCKENS 

It  is  n't  a  pleasant  place  any  more,  eh,  Rosalie.'' 

EOSALIE 

Not  for  anybody,  Mr,  Merckens,  not  for  anybody. 

MERCKENS 

Why  don't  you  find  another  place.'' 

ROSALIE 

How  can  the  girls  get  along  without  me,  any  more 
than  I  can  without  them.''  I  'm  one  more  mouth  to 
be  fed,  true  enough;  but  you  bet  I  earn  what  I  eat. 
You  must  n't  think  you  can  stay  to  luncheon  with 
us,  Mr.  Merckens.  In  the  old  days,  when  I  saw  you 
coming  at  this  hour,  I  did  n't  need  any  orders  to 
know  what  to  do  ;  you  'd  find  your  place  ready  at 
the  table  ;  but  things  are  different  now.  I  '11  go  and 
tell  Mrs.  Vigneron  you  are  here. 

MERCKENS 

No;    don't  bother  Mrs.  Vigneron.     Just  tell  Miss 
Judith  I  am  here. 
[^Judith  enters. 

ROSALIE 

Here  she  is  now. 

JUDITH 

How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Merckens. 
\^Merckens  bows. 

ROSALIE 

But  of  course,  if  a  good  cup  of  coffee  will  do  you, 
we  can  still  offer  you  that. 


128  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

JUDITH 

Leave  us,  Rosalie  — 

\_Rosalie  goes  out. 
JUDITH  {to  Merck  ens) 

First  of  all,  I  've  a  little  bone  to  pick  with  you,  and 

then  that  '11   be   out  of   the   way.      I   wrote   to   you 

twice  asking  you  to  come  and  see  me.     Once  ought 

to  be  enough. 
MERCKENS  {awTcwardly) 

Are  you  sure  you  wrote  me  twice.'' 

JUDITH 

You  know  well  I  did. 

MERCKENS 

No,  really  ;   your  first  letter  did  n't  reach  me. 

JUDITH 

Well,  never  mind.     I  don't  need  to  tell  you  the  con- 
ditions we  are  reduced  to;    you  saw  the  moment  you 
came  in. 
MERCKENS  {half  seHous,  half  joking) 
Tell  me  about  it. 

JUDITH 

It 's  a  story  you  would  n't  be  interested  in,  and  it 
would  n't  be  pleasant  for  me  to  tell.  In  a  word,  we 
did  n't  have  money  enough  to  fight  for  our  rights  ; 
we  had  to  have  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in  cash. 

MERCKENS 

Why  did  n't  you  tell  me.''  I  would  have  found  the 
money. 

JUDITH 

It 's  too  late  now.  Please  sit  down.  Mr.  Merckens, 
you  have  seen,  and  you  remember,  our  family  life. 
We  were  very  happy;  very  fond  of  one  another;   we 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  129 

knew  very  few  people  outside,  and  cared  to  know 
none.  We  did  n't  think  that  some  day  we  should 
have  need  of  acquaintances,  and  that  then  we 
should  n't  have  any.  i^Merckens  looks  at  his  watch) 
Are  you  in  a  hurry? 

MEECKENS 

Yes;  I  am.  Will  you  please  cut  the  story  short? 
You  wanted  to  see  me;  here  I  am.  You  want  to 
ask  me  something.  What  is  it?  Perhaps  it  would 
be  just  as  well  for  me  to  tell  you  that  I  am  not  a 
very  obliging  person. 

JUDITH 

Shall  I  go  on? 

MERCKENS 

Yes,  certainly;   go  ahead. 

JUDITH 

Here  is  what  I  first  thought  of  ;    I  '11  start  with  the 
simplest  and  surest  thing.     I  am  thinking  of  turning 
to  account  the  fine  lessons  you  have  given  me,  by 
giving  lessons  myself. 
MERCKENS  (touching  her  knee) 

What,  poor  child  —  you've  got  down  to  that? 

JUDITH 

Come,  come,  Mr.  Merckens  ;  please  call  me  "  Miss," 
as  you  have  been  used  to  do,  and  answer  me  seriously. 

MERCKENS 

Lessons  !  In  the  first  place,  are  you  capable  of  giv- 
ing lessons?  I  'm  not  so  sure  of  it.  But  let 's  sup- 
pose you  are.  Would  you  do  what  is  necessary  to 
get  pupils?  To  get  them,  you  have  to  play  the  part 
of  a  beggar.  You  don't  get  any  by  being  dignified 
and  putting  on  airs.  But  it  is  possible  that  people 
might  take  pity  on  you,  and  in  four  or  five  years 


130  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

—  not  before  —  you  might  have  enough  pupils. 
Your  pupils  would  as  often  as  not  be  disagreeable; 
their  parents  would  nearly  always  be  brutes.  What 
is  a  poor  little  music  teacher  to  a  lot  of  philistines 
that  don't  even  know  what  C  major  is?  You  need  n't 
look  any  farther,  for  instance,  than  your  dad  .  .  . 

JUDITH 

We  won't  speak  of  my  father. 

MERCKENS 

Surely  a  fellow  can  laugh  a  little  —  he  did  n't  leave 
you  anything.   {A  pause) 

JUDITH 

Let 's  put  aside  the  question  of  music  lessons  a 
minute;  we  can  come  back  to  that.  Now  in  what 
I  am  going  to  say  to  you,  Mr.  Merckens,  please 
don't  think  I  am  prompted  by  vanity  or  presump- 
tion ;  I  am  just  trying  to  make  use  of  what  talent 
I  have  for  music.  I  have  composed  a  good  deal; 
you  know  that.  With  the  little  things  I  've  already 
written,  and  others  I  can  produce,  can't  I  get  a  liv- 
ing for  my  family? 
MERCKENS  (after  laughing) 

Look  at  me.  {He  laughs  again)  Never,  never  say 
that  again;  understand?  I  mean  what  you  have 
just  said  to  me.  You  'd  be  the  laughing-stock  of  the 
whole  world.  {He  laughs  again)  Earn  a  living! 
Is  that  all? 

JUDITH 

No,  it  is  n't.  We  were  talking  once  about  a  profes- 
sion that  did  n't  strike  me  favorably  then,  and  still 
does  n't  more  than  half  appeal  to  me.  But  the  way 
my  family  is  fixed,  I  ought  not  to  hesitate  at  any- 
thing to  help  them  out.     The  stage? 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  131 

MERCKENS 

Too  late. 

JUDITH 

Why  can't  I  do  as  others  have  —  women  who  felt 
undecided  at  first,  but  summoned  up  their  courage 
and  went  into  it? 

MERCKENS 

Too  late.  \ 

JUDITH 

Perhaps  I  have  natural  qualities  —  and  lack  only 
work  and  experience? 

MERCKENS 

Too  late.  It 's  no  use  thinking  of  the  stage  without 
preparing  for  it  a  long  time.  You  '11  never  be  an 
artist.  It  is  n't  in  you.  As  you  are  now,  all  you  'd 
find  on  the  stage  would  be  disillusionment  ...  or 
adventures  ;   and  that  is  n't  what  you  are  after,  is  it? 

JUDITH 

But  what  can  I  do,  then? 

MERCKENS 

Nothing.  I  see  the  fix  you  are  in.  You  're  not  the 
first  one  I  've  seen  in  the  same  situation,  and  made 
the  same  reply  to.  There  are  no  resources  for  a 
woman  ;  or,  at  least,  only  one.  Now  I  '11  tell  you 
the  whole  truth  in  one  sentence.  If  you  are  good, 
people  will  respect  you  without  doing  anything  for 
you  ;  and  if  you  're  not,  they  '11  do  things  for  you 
without  respecting  you.  There 's  no  other  way 
about  it.  Are  you  going  to  take  up  the  subject 
of  giving  lessons  again? 

JUDITH 

It 's  no  use.     I  'm  sorry  to  have  bothered  you. 


132  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

MERCKENS 

You  want  me  to  go? 

JUDITH 

I  shan't  stop  you. 

MERCKENS 

Good-bye,  Miss  Judith. 

JUDITH 

Good-bye,  Mr.  Merckens. 
MERCKENS  (at  the  door) 

There  was  nothing  else  to  tell  her. 
MARIE  (entering) 

Well? 

JUDITH 

Well,  if  Mr.  Merckens  is  right,  and  if  things  are  as 
he  says,  we  are  n't  out  of  our  difficulties  yet.  Mean- 
while, here  are  all  my  plans  upset  ;  those  you  know 
of,  and  another  one  I  had  kept  to  myself. 

MARIE 

What  other? 

JUDITH 

What 's  the  use  telling  you? 

MARIE 

Tell  me,  anyway. 

JUDITH 

I  did  think,  for  a  while,  of  making  use  of  my  voice, 
by  going  on  the  stage. 

MARIE 

You,  sister,  on  the  stage  ! 

JUDITH 

Well,  why  not?  We  must  be  doing  something,  and 
we  've  got  to  take  what  comes.  We  can't  wait  till  we 
have  got  down  to  our  last  cent.  INIama  is  n't  able  to 
go  to  work,  and  furthermore  we  don't  want  her  to. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  133 

Who  knows  whether  poor  Blanche  will  ever  recover 
her  reason?  Well,  then,  there's  just  you  and  me; 
and  what  is  there  you  can  do,  dearie?  You  would 
have  to  work  twelve  hours  a  day  to  earn  a  franc  and 
a  half. 

MARIE 

Tell  me,  really  and  truly,  what  you  think  of  Blanche's 
condition?    How  do  you  find  her? 

JUDITH 

One  day  better  and  the  next  day  worse.  We  expect 
her  to  recognize  us  any  moment  ;  but  as  yet  she 
does  n't  seem  to  see  anyone  or  hear  anything.  I  've 
been  thinking  over  this  misfortune;  and  perhaps  we 
have  escaped  a  worse  one.  If  Blanche,  in  that  condi- 
tion, had  heard  of  the  marriage  of  Mr.  de  Saint- 
Genis,  might  it  not  have  killed  her?  She  is  alive. 
That  's  the  main  thing.  We  have  her  still  with  us. 
If  we  must  always  take  care  of  her,  we  will.  If  we 
must  go  hungry  for  her,  we  '11  do  that,  too.  She 
is  n't  our  sister  now  —  she  's  our  little  girl. 

MARIE 

How  good  you  are,  sister;  I  love  you  so  much! 
{They  embrace) 

JUDITH 

I  love  you,  too.  At  times  I  am  blunt;  but  I  always 
have  you  here,  in  my  heart.  It  seems  to  me  that  I, 
the  eldest  sister  —  "  big  sister,"  as  you  call  me  — 
I  am  the  one  who  should  find  a  way  out  of  our 
troubles.  I  don't  know  how  to  do  it.  I  've  looked, 
and  I  can't  find  a  way.  If  the  only  thing  needed  were 
to  go  through  fire  and  water  for  the  rest  of  you,  I 
should  have  done  that  before  now.    {A  pause) 


134  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

MARIE 

Has  mama  said  anything  about  a  visit  from  Mr. 
Bourdon? 

JUDITH 

No.     What  was  he  doing  here.'* 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier  sent  him  to  ask  me  to  be  his  wife. 

JUDITH 

I  'm  not  surprised.  It  was  easy  enough  to  see  that 
Mr.  Teissier  took  a  Hking  to  you,  and  sooner  or  later 
the  idea  of  marriage  was  bound  to  come  to  him. 

MARIE 

Would  you  advise  me  to  accept  him? 

JUDITH 

You  must  n't  ask  my  advice  on  that  point.  You  are 
the  one  concerned;  it  is  for  you  to  decide.  Think 
it  over  well,  look  at  it  from  all  sides,  but  by  all  means 
think  only  of  yourself.  If  you  are  frightened  at  our 
situation,  and  you  look  back  regretfully  to  the  times 
when  we  had  plenty  of  money,  marry  Mr.  Teissier. 
He  will  make  you  pay  dearly  enough  for  your  com- 
fort and  security.  But  if  I  understand  you,  and 
the  way  you  love  your  mother  and  sisters,  and  how 
you  could  do  for  them  what  would  be  repulsive  if 
you  alone  were  concerned,  we  should  be  very  wrong 
—  all  the  guiltier  —  to  advise  you  to  make  the  great- 
est sacrifice  a  woman  can  make. 

MARIE 

What   you   say   is    right   from   the   heart  ;    kiss   me 

again. 

\^Rosalie  enters  at  the  rear;    in  one  hand  she  carries 

a  coffee-pot,  in  the  other  a  casserole  full  of  milk; 

she  places  them  on  the  table,  and  then  draws  near 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  135 

the  two  sisters  and  watches  them,  sighing;  Marie 
and  Judith  separate. 

JUDITH 

Is  luncheon  ready? 

ROSALIE 

Yes,  miss.    I  '11  serve  it  whenever  you  wish. 

MARIE 

Judith  is  going  to  help  you  with  the  table,  Rosalie. 
[^Judith  and  Rosalie  carry  the  table  to  the  front  of 
the  stage,  placing  it  at  the  right;  Rosalie  arranges 
the  cups  and  serves  the  coffee  while  Judith  places  the 
chairs.  Marie,  meanwhile,  goes  to  the  door  at  the 
left  and  opens  it.  Blanche  comes  in,  followed  by  her 
mother.  Blanche  is  pale,  limp,  and  stares  stupidly, 
her  attitude  being  that  of  a  harmless  insane  person. 
Mrs.  Vigneron  is  aged  and  whitened.  Marie  helps 
Blanche  to  a  place,  and  then  they  sit  down  one  by 
one,  except  Rosalie,  who  takes  her  coffee  standing. 
There  is  a  prolonged  silence,  and  an  atmosphere  of 
utter  desolation. 

MRS.  VIGNERON  (suddenly  bursting  out) 

Oh,  children;    if  your  father  could  see  us!    (Tears 

and  sobbing) 

[At   that  moment  Bourdon  steps   quietly  into   the 

room. 

ROSALIE  (to  Bourdon) 
How  did  you  get  in.'' 

BOURDON 

By  the  open  door.  You  ought  not  leave  your  out- 
side door  open.  Thieves  could  steal  everything 
you  've  got. 


136  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

EOSALiE  (speaking  directly/  at  him) 

No  fear  of  that.     That  j  ob  has  been  done  —  and 

done  brown. 
BOURDON  (to  Mrs.  Vigneron,  who  has  risen) 

Don't  let  me  disturb  you,  madam  ;  I  '11  wait  until  you 

have  finished  luncheon. 
MRS.  VIGNERON  (going  to  him) 

What  have  you  got  to  say  to  me,  Mr.  Bourdon.? 
BOURDON  (in  a  low  tone) 

This  time,  madam,  I  've  come  for  Teissier,  regarding 

a  matter  very  dear  to  him.     I  assume  you  have  let 

your  daughter  know  about  the  offer  I  spoke  about.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Certainly. 

BOURDON 

Do  I  have  your  permission  to  renew  the  offer  to  her, 
in  your  presence  .f* 

MBS.    VIGNERON 

Very  well,  you  have  my  consent.     Judith,  dear,  take 
your   sister   away.      Marie,  Mr.   Bourdon  wishes  to 
speak  with  us. 
[Judith  leads  Blanche  out. 
BOURDON  (to  Marie) 

Your  mother  has  told  you,  young  lady,  of  the  desire 
expressed  by  Mr.  Teissier .^^ 

MARIE 

Yes,  sir. 

BOURDON 

Of  your  own  free  will  you  have  declined  this  proposal 
of  marriage  .f* 

MARIE 

Of  my  own  free  will. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  137 

BOURDON 

Good  !  Good  !  I  'm  glad  it 's  that  way.  For  a  mo- 
ment, I  was  afraid,  when  you  refused  such  a  hand- 
some offer,  that  your  mother  and  sisters  had  con- 
spired to  keep  you  with  them  —  not  out  of  jealousy, 
but  in  a  spirit  of  misdirected  affection.  If  you  have 
come  to  a  definite,  unalterable  decision,  of  your  own 
accord,  I  don't  see  any  use  in  going  further  into 
the  matter.    {A  silence) 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Don't  be  afraid,  dear;  answer  frankly  just  what  you 
think.    (Another  silence) 

BOURDON 

In  case  you  regret  your  first  decision,  young  lady  — 
and  that 's  easy  to  explain  —  I  am  offering  you  a 
chance  to  change  your  mind.  You  had  better  take 
advantage  of  it. 

MARIE 

You  must  tell  Mr.  Teissier  for  me  that  I  like  him 
better  for  his  persistence,  but  that  I  still  wish  some 
time  to  think  it  over. 

BOURDON 

Well  !  That 's  a  reasonable  answer,  madam  —  very 
sensible,  indeed  —  That  does  n't  look  like  the  cate- 
gorical refusal  you  gave  me. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

My  daughter  may  have  changed  her  mind.  But  she 
should  know  that  I  don't  approve  of  it. 

BOURDON 

Say  no  more,  madam.  Leave  the  young  lady  to  her 
own  devices.  Later  on  she  might  reproach  you  be- 
cause   she    followed    your    wishes.      (Returning    to 


138  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

Marie)  I  understand  perfectly,  young  lady,  why 
this  marriage  must  present  some  objectionable  fea- 
tures to  you,  and  why  you  have  been  in  no  hurry 
to  enter  it.  Unfortunately,  Teissier  is  not  twenty 
years  old,  like  yourself  —  indeed,  that  is  your  great- 
est cause  for  complaint  —  and  at  his  age,  a  man 
is  n't  willing  to  have  things  delayed. 

MARIE 

Mr.  Bourdon,  I  want  to  know,  and  I  beg  you  will 
tell  me  sincerely,  whether  Mr.  Teissier  is  an  honest 
man. 

BOURDON 

An  honest  man!  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  In 
case  you  should  marry  Mr.  Teissier,  I  should  not 
advise  you  to  place  implicit  confidence  in  a  simple 
promise;  but  there  are  lawyers  to  draw  up  con- 
tracts establishing  the  rights  of  the  parties  con- 
cerned.    Have  I  answered  your  question.'' 

MARIE 

No  ;  you  did  n't  understand  me.  When  a  young 
woman  says  "  an  honest  man,"  she  thinks  of  a  good 
many  things. 

BOURDON 

Do  you  want  to  know  whether  Teissier  has  made  his 
money  in  an  honorable  way.? 

MARIE 

Yes  ;  I  want  to  be  assured  on  that  point,  as  well  as 
some  others. 

BOURDON 

Why  should  that  worry  you?  If  you  were  to  look 
into  all  the  fortunes  in  France,  there  are  n't  a  hun- 
dred —  no,  not  fifty  —  that  would  stand  a  close  ex- 
amination.    I  speak  as  a  man  who  has  been  through 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  139 

the  mill.  Teissier  has  been  in  business  all  his  life; 
he  has  amassed  a  considerable  sum,  and  nobody  would 
dream  of  attacking  his  right  to  it.  That 's  all  you 
need  to  know. 

MARIE 

What  is  Mr.  Teissier's  ordinary  conduct.''  What  are 
his  tastes  and  his  habits.'' 

BOURDON 

Just  the  tastes  and  habits  of  any  man  of  his  age.  I 
don't  think  you  have  anything  to  fear  on  that  score. 
I  see  now  what  you  are  driving  at.  Believe  me,  as  a 
husband  Teissier  will  have  rather  too  much  than  too 
little  virtue.     I  leave  it  to  your  mother. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

It  occurs  to  me  to  ask  what  interest  you  have  in  this 
marriage,  Mr.  Bourdon.'' 

BOURDON 

What  interest,  madam .''  Only  the  welfare  of  this 
young  lady,  and  yours,  at  the  same  time. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

It 's  rather  late,  is  n't  it,  to  show  such  devotion 
for  us.? 

BOURDON 

Madam,  you  are  still  thinking  of  that  wretched  busi- 
ness. I  know  everything  went  about  as  badly  as  it 
could.  But  was  it  my  fault  that  you  were  unable 
to  fight  for  your  husband's  estate.'*  You  had  to  give 
way  to  the  law  of  the  strongest,  that 's  all.  To-day, 
this  law  has  shifted  in  your  favor.  It  happens  that 
your  daughter  has  made  a  conquest  of  an  old  man, 
who  will  grant  anything  to  be  able  to  spend  his  re- 
maining days  with  her.  The  whole  situation  favors 
you.     You've  got   the  trumps.     Play   'em.      Do   I 


140  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

need  to  tell  you,  madam,  that  we  lawyers  know  neither 
the  weak  nor  the  strong;  that  absolute  impartiality 
is  a  duty  we  never  depart  from?  Nevertheless,  I 
don't  think  I  do  wrong,  even  though  I  am  Teissier's 
attorney,  to  stipulate  for  your  daughter  all  the  ad- 
vantages she  is  in  a  position  to  demand.  (Returning 
to  Marie)  You  heard  what  I  have  just  said  to  your 
mother,  miss.  Put  whatever  questions  you  wish  to 
me  ;  but  particularly  the  question  which  is  really  the 
most  important  —  the  question  of  money.  I  'm  lis- 
tening. 

MARIE 

No;   you  speak. 
BOURDON  (zmth  a  half -smile) 

I  'm  here  to  listen  to  you,  and  advise  you. 

MARIE 

It  would  be  painful  for  me  to  talk  about  it. 
BOURDON  (smiling) 

Nonsense  !  What  you  want  to  know  is  what  Mr. 
Teissier  is  worth,  down  to  a  cent,  is  n't  it.? 

MARIE 

It 's  enough,  I  know,  without  being  told. 

BOURDON 

Right  you  are.  Teissier  is  rich,  very  rich.  Why, 
he 's  richer,  the  old  fox,  than  he  himself  knows. 
Come,  now,  miss,  I  'm  waiting  for  you. 

MARIE 

Of  course  Mr.  Teissier  has  told  you  of  his  intentions  ? 

BOURDON 

Yes  ;  but  I  must  know  yours,  too.  It 's  always  fun 
for  us  lawyers  to  see  the  parties  fighting  tooth  and 
nail  over  the  terms. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  141 


Please  don't  add  to  my  embarrassment.  If  this  mar- 
riage must  take  place,  I  had  rather  run  my  chances 
than  make  the  conditions. 

BOURDON  (smiling  continiuiUy) 

Really!  {Marie  looks  at  him  fixedly)  I  don't  doubt 
your  scruples,  miss.  When  they  are  so  plainly 
shown,  we  are  forced  to  believe  them  sincere.  But 
Teissier  does  n't  think  you  are  marrying  him  for  his 
beauty.  So  he  is  already  willing  to  make  a  settle- 
ment on  you.  But  this  settlement,  I  hasten  to  tell 
you,  is  not  sufficient.  You  are  making  a  bargain, 
are  you  not?  Or,  if  that  word  hurts  you,  at  any 
rate  a  speculation.  And  you  ought  to  reap  all  the 
benefits  of  it.  So  it  is  only  just  —  and  you  can  insist 
—  that  when  Teissier  marries  you,  he  shall  make  you 
half-owner  of  all  he  possesses,  irrevocably  and  incon- 
testably,  so  that  you  will  receive  one-half  after  he 
dies.  Then  all  you  would  have  to  do  would  be  to 
pray  that  time  would  not  be  too  long  deferred. 
{Turning  to  Mrs.  Vigneron)  You  heard  what  I  have 
just  told  your  daughter,  madam .î* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

I  heard. 

BOURDON 

What  do  you  think.»* 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

If  you  want  to  know,  Mr.  Bourdon,  I  think  instead 
of  promising  my  daughter  half  Mr.  Teissier's  for- 
tune, you  would  have  done  better  to  have  saved  for 
her  that  of  her  father's. 


142  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

BOURDON 

Can't  get  away  from  that  subject,  eh,  madam?  {Re- 
turning to  Marie)  Well,  miss,  now  you  know  the 
great  advantages  in  store  for  you  in  the  near  future. 
I  am  wondering  what  objections  you  can  find  now. 
I  can't  think  of  any.  Sentimental  objections?  I  am 
speaking,  I  think,  to  a  sensible  young  woman,  well 
brought  up,  without  foolish  notions.  You  ought  to 
know  there  is  no  such  thing  as  love.  I  never  met 
with  it.  This  world  is  made  up  of  businesses.  Mar- 
riage is  a  business,  just  like  the  rest,  and  the  chances 
offered  you  to-day  will  never  come  your  way  again. 

MARIE 

In  the  conversations  you  have  had  with  Mr.  Teissier, 
has  he  said  anything  about  my  family? 

BOURDON 

About  your  family?  No.  (In  a  low  tone)  Do  they 
want  something,  too? 

MARIE 

Mr.  Teissier  ought  to  know  that  I  would  never  con- 
sent to  separate  from  them. 

BOURDON 

Why  should  you?  Your  sisters  are  nice  girls,  and 
your  mother  is  very  agreeable.  Besides,  Teissier  has 
every  reason  not  to  want  to  leave  a  young  wife  with 
idle  moments  on  her  hands.  Now,  miss,  be  ready  for 
what  remains  for  me  to  tell  you.  Teissier  came  here 
with  me.  He  is  outside.  He  is  waiting  for  a  reply, 
and  this  time  it  must  be  a  definite  answer.  You  will 
take  long  chances  in  doing  otherwise.  So  it  is  a 
"  yes  "  or  "  no  "  that  I  am  asking  for. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  143 

MES.    VIGNERON 

That 's  enough  of  that,  Mr.  Bourdon.  I  was  willing 
enough  for  you  to  tell  my  daughter  whatever  propo- 
sitions were  made  to  her.  Whether  she  accepts  them 
or  not,  is  her  business.  But  I  don't  intend  that  she 
shall  be  surprised  into  acceptance,  or  do  anything 
in  a  moment  of  weakness  or  emotion.  Moreover,  you 
must  know  that  I  reserve  the  right  to  have  a  talk  with 
her  and  tell  her  certain  things  which  would  be  out  of 
place  with  you  here  —  things  a  mother  can  tell  her 
child,  and  must  tell,  when  they  are  alone.  One  thing 
I  can  tell  you  :  I  have  n't  brought  up  a  girl  to  be 
twenty  —  a  girl  full  of  health  and  fine  spirit  —  only 
to  hand  her  over  to  an  old  man. 

BOURDON 

To  whom  are  you  going  to  give  her.''  To  hear  you 
talk,  madam,  anyone  might  think  you  had  your 
pockets  full  of  sons-in-law,  and  that  your  daughters' 
.  only  trouble  was  to  choose  between  them.  Why  was 
it  that  the  marriage  of  one  of  them  —  a  marriage 
that  seemed  practically  settled  —  fell  through?  Lack 
of  money.  And  lack  of  money,  madam,  is  just  what 
will  keep  every  one  of  your  daughters  an  old  maid. 

MRS.     VIGNERON 

You  're  wrong.  I  had  nothing,  and  neither  did  my 
husband.  He  married  me  all  the  same,  and  we  have 
been  very  happy, 

BOURDON 

It  is  true  you  have  had  four  children.  But  if  your 
husband  were  still  in  this  world,  madam,  he  would 
disagree  with  you  —  perhaps  for  the  first  time. 
When  he  saw  the  situation  of  his  daughters,  he  would 
be  frightened  —  for,  whatever  you  may  think  of  it, 


144  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

it  is  perplexing  and  dangerous.  He  would  put  a  true 
value  on  Mr.  Teissier's  proposal.  To  be  sure,  it  is 
not  perfect;  but  it  is  more  than  acceptable.  It  is 
reassuring  for  the  present  and  {looking  at  Marie) 
full  of  dazzling  prospects  for  the  future.  I  know 
well  enough  that  it 's  easy  to  say  what  dead  people 
might  or  might  n't  do,  but  this  young  lady's  father, 
whose  heart  was  just  as  big  as  yours,  had  all  the 
experience  that  you  lack.  He  knew  life.  He  know 
that  you  pay  for  what  you  get  in  this  world.  And, 
in  the  end,  his  thoughts  to-day  would  be  something 
like  this  :  "  I  have  lived  for  my  family  ;  I  died  for 
them  ;  surely  my  daughter  can  sacrifice  a  few  years 
for  them." 
MARIE  {with  her  eyes  full  of  tears) 
Tell  Mr.  Teissier  I  accept. 

BOUEDON 

Come  now,  young  lady,  you  're  giving  yourself  a 
good  deal  of  trouble  over  making  your  fortune.  Here 
is  your  contract,  I  drew  it  up  in  advance,  without 
knowing  whether  I  should  be  paid  for  my  trouble. 
Read  it  over  carefully  and  soberly.  All  it  needs  is 
Teissier's  signature  ;  and  I  '11  attend  to  that.  I  was 
your  father's  lawyer,  and  I  'm  hoping,  to  be  yours. 
I  '11  go  find  Teissier  and  bring  him  here.  {He  goes 
out) 
MARIE  {to  her  mother) 

Kiss  me  —  but  don't  say  anything.  Don't  take 
away  my  courage.  I  'veno  more  than  I  need,  as  it 
is.  You  must  see  that  Mr.  Bourdon  is  right.  This 
marriage  is  our  salvation.  I  'm  ashamed  —  oh,  so 
ashamed  !  —  to  do  it  ;  but  I  should  always  feel  guilty 
if  I  did  not.     Mother  dear,  could  you,  at  your  age. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  145 

begin  to  live  another  life  of  misery  and  privation? 
Yes,  yes,  I  know  —  you  are  full  of  courage  !  But 
Blanche  —  Blanche,  the  poor  child  —  we  can't  ask 
her  to  have  courage  —  not  her.  What  remorse  I 
should  have  to  suffer  later,  if  her  health  were  to 
demand  care  that  we  could  n't  give  her  !  And  Judith  ! 
Oh,  I  'm  thinking  of  Judith,  too.  Who  knows  what 
would  become  of  a  young  girl,  the  best,  the  highest- 
minded  girl  in  the  world,  if  she  should  be  driven  to 
extremes,  and  should  lose  her  fear  —  of  things. 
Come,  I  feel  a  weight  off  my  shoulders  now  that  it 's 
done.  It  will  be  just  as  he  wishes  —  a  dishonest, 
self-seeking  marriage  —  and  a  sad  one,  too.  But 
still  I  prefer  a  little  shame  and  regret  that  I  know 
about  to  a  host  of  terrors  of  all  kinds  that  might 
end  in  a  terrible  misfortune.  Don't  cry  any  more; 
don't  let  them  see  that  you  have  been  crying. 
[^Bourdon  comes  in,  followed  hy  Teissier.  Teissier, 
smiling,  goes  toward  Marie;  hut  Bourdon  stops  him 
and  motions  that  he  must  first  speak  to  Mrs. 
Vigneron. 

TEISSIER 

How  do  you  do,  madam.  (Going  to  Marie)  Is  it 
really  true,  what  Bourdon  just  told  me  —  that  you 
will  be  my  wife.'' 

MARIE 

It  is  true. 

TEISSIER 

A  mighty  good  decision  —  you  won't  change  your 
mind  by  to-morrow,  will  you.''  (She  offers  him  her 
hand;  he  kisses  her  on  both  cheeks)  Don't  blush. 
That 's  the  way  we  do  in  the  village  I  came  from. 
A  man  kisses  his  bride-to-be  first  on  the  right  cheek, 


146  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

saying,  "  Here  's  one  for  the  Mayor  "  ;  and  then  one 
on  the  left  cheek,  saying,  "  Here 's  one  for  the 
priest."  (Marie  smiles;  Teissier  goes  over  to  Mrs. 
Vigneron)  If  you  are  willing,  madam,  we  '11  publish 
the  banns  to-morrow.  Bourdon  will  make  us  a  little 
contract  —  won't  you,  Bourdon?  (Bourdon  replies 
with  a  significant  gesture)  And  three  weeks  from  now 
your  second  daughter  will  be  Mrs.  Teissier. 
\^Rosalie  enters. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  is  it,  Rosalie.'' 

ROSALIE 

Will  you  see  Mr.  Dupuis,  ma'am.'' 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

Mr.  Dupuis.?     The  house-furnisher .? 

ROSALIE 

Yes,  ma'am. 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

What  does  he  want  of  us.'' 

ROSALIE 

You  owe  him  money,  ma'am.  At  least,  he  says  so. 
Another  vulture,  sure  as  you  live  ! 

MRS.    VIGNERON 

We  owe  Mr.  Dupuis  nothing  —  do  you  hear.''  — 
nothing!     Tell  him  I  don't  want  to  see  him. 

TEISSIER 

Yes,  madam,  yes  ;  you  must  see  Mr.  Dupuis.  Either 
there  is  really  something  due  him,  in  spite  of  what 
you  think,  or  Mr.  Dupuis  is  mistaken,  in  which  case 
it  won't  be  out  of  place  to  show  him  his  error.  You 
are  not  alone  ;  you  have  a  man  with  you  now.  Show 
Mr.  Dupuis  in.     Miss  Marie  is  going  to  receive  him. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  147 

She  will  soon  be  mistress  of  a  house,  and  I  want  to 

see  how  she  will  act.     Come,  Bourdon.     Let 's  leave 

your  daughter  with  Mr.  Dupuis, 

l^Mrs.  Vigneron  and  Bourdon  go  out  at  the  left. 
TEISSIER  {to  Marie) 

I  '11  be  here,  behind  this  door  ;   I  won't  miss  a  word. 

{He  hides  behind  the  door) 
DUPUIS  (entering) 

How  do  you  do.  Miss  Marie. 

MARIE 

How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Dupuis. 

DUPUIS 

Is  your  mother  well? 

MARIE 

Pretty  well,  thank  you. 

DUPUIS 

Your  sisters  are  well.'' 

MARIE 

Yes. 

DUPUIS 

I  don't  need  to  ask  how  you  are  ;  you  're  as  fresh 
and  rosy  as  a  new-born  babe. 

MARIE 

My  mother  told  me  to  receive  you  for  her,  Mr. 
Dupuis.  Tell  me  as  soon  as  possible  what  brings  you 
here. 

DUPUIS 

Can't  you  make  a  little  guess  as  to  what  brings  me 
here  ? 

MARIE 

No,  really. 


148  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

DUPUIS 

Is  that  so?  Don't  you  say  to  yourself,  that  if  I 
come  here,  after  so  long  a  time  has  passed,  it  must 
be  that  I  need  money? 

MARIE 

Explain  yourself. 

DUPUIS 

I  would  have  given  a  whole  lot  —  yes,  I  would,  young 
lady  —  not  to  have  to  make  this  visit.  When  I 
heard  of  your  father's  death,  I  said  to  my  wife; 
"  I  believe  Mr.  Vigneron  still  owes  us  something  — 
but  what  of  it?  —  it  isn't  much,  and  we  won't  die 
if  we  set  it  down  to  profit  and  loss."  That 's  the  way 
I  do  with  my  good  customers.  Mr.  Vigneron  was  a 
good  customer  ;  never  had  the  least  trouble  with 
him  ;  that 's  the  way  things  ought  to  be  between 
honest  folks.  Unfortunately,  you  know  how  business 
is  —  up  one  day  and  down  the  next  ;  well,  it  is  n't 
good  just  now.     Understand? 

MARIE 

I  'm  pretty  certain,  Mr.  Dupuis,  that  my  father 
settled  everything  with  you. 

DUPUIS 

Don't  say  that  —  you  hurt  me. 

MARIE 

Nevertheless,  I  'm  as  sure  as  anyone  can  be  that  my 
father  squared  his  account  with  you. 

DUPUIS 

Be  careful  ;  you  '11  get  me  angry.  It  's  only  a  mat- 
ter of  two  thousand  francs.  The  amount  is  n't  worth 
the  trouble.  Perhaps  you  are  embarrassed  at  this 
moment.  Then  say  so.  I  have  n't  come  to  take  your 
last  cent.     Just  let  your  mother  give  me  a  note  for 


ACT  ivj  THE    VULTURES  149 

two  thousand  francs,  at  three  months.  Her  signa- 
ture is  the  same  as  ready  money  to  me. 

MARIE 

I  '11  tell  my  mother  you  are  here  to  collect  two  thou- 
sand francs.  But  I  tell  you  again  you  are  mistaken. 
I  'm  certain  we  don't  owe  it. 

DUPUIS 

Well,  young  lady,  I  don't  leave  here  till  I  get  it.  I 
came  politely,  with  my  hat  in  my  hand  {he  puts  it 
on)  and  you  seem  to  be  treating  me  like  a  robber. 
Those  ways  don't  go  with  me.  You  'd  better  find 
your  mother  and  make  her  give  me  two  thousand 
francs  —  or  a  note  —  I  'm  still  willing  to  take  her 
note  —  or  Mr.  Dupuis  will  have  a  fit  of  anger  that 
will  shake  the  house. 

[^Teissier  enters;  Dupuis,  surprised  and  quickly  in^ 
timidated  hy  his  appearance,  takes  off  his  hat  again. 

TEISSIER 

Keep  your  hat  on.  There  's  no  ceremony  in  business. 
You  've  got  your  bill  with  you.^* 

DUPUIS 

Certainly,  sir,  I  have  my  bill. 

TEISSIER 

Let 's  have  it. 

DUPUIS 

Shall  I  give  my  bill  to  this  gentleman,  miss.f* 

MARIE 

Do  as  he  says. 
TEISSIER  (reading  the  hill) 

"  Received  of  Mrs.  Vigneron,  two  thousand  francs  to 
settle  her  account  in  full."  What  kind  of  a  bill  is 
this?     Don't  you  usually  give  an  itemized  account? 


150  THE    VULTURES  [act  iv 

DUPUIS 

We  can't  make  out  the  same  bill  five  or  six  times, 
sir.  The  first  one  I  rendered  to  Mr.  Vigneron  con- 
tained all  the  necessary  specifications. 

TEISSIER 

All  right.  I  'm  going  to  pay  you.  I  '11  verify  the 
bill  when  I  get  home. 

DUPUIS 

Go  ahead,  sir,  and  verify  it.  Mr.  Vigneron  should 
have  left  his  papers  in  order. 

TEISSIER 

Yes,  he  did.  (Holding  the  bill  close  to  his  eyes) 
Dupuis  is  the  name,  eh?  Is  this  signature  yours.'' 
You  are  Mr.  Dupuis.'' 

DUPUIS 

Yes,  sir. 

TEISSIER 

I  am  going  to  give  you  your  two  thousand  francs. 

DUPUIS 

Verify  it,  sir,  if  you  can.    I  '11  wait  till  then. 

TEISSIER 

You  're  very  sure  that  when  Mr.  Vigneron  died,  he 
still  owed  you  two  thousand  francs? 

DUPUIS 

Yes,  sir  —  yes,  sir.  My  wife  may  have  made  a  mis- 
take in  her  figures;    but  I  don't  think  so. 

TEISSIER 

Your  wife  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  's  you  who 
would  be  liable  if  you  received  the  same  amount  twice. 

DUPUIS 

I  don't  demand  it,  sir,  if  it  is  n't  due  me.  I  am  an 
honest  man. 


ACT  iv]  THE    VULTURES  151 

TEISSIER  {offering  him  the  money) 
Here  's  your  two  thousand  francs. 

DUPUIS 

No  ;   verify  it  first.     I  'd  rather  you  would. 

TEISSIER 

Get  out  of  here  !  And  don't  let  me  see  you  inside 
these  doors  again.     Do  you  hear.'' 

DUPUIS 

What 's  that,  sir? 

TEISSIER 

I  tell  you  not  to  come  back  here.  Don't  be  fresh, 
or  you  '11  regret  it. 

DUPUIS 

Give  me  back  my  bill,  anyway. 

TEISSIER 

Look  out,  or  you  '11  see  it  again  in  a  courtroom. 

DUPUIS 

Now  that 's  too  much  !  How  dare  you  —  I  don't 
even  know  who  you  are  —  how  dare  you  talk  to  me 
like  that  !  I  'm  going,  miss  ;  but  you  '11  hear  from 
me  again  —  and  soon!  {He  puts  on  his  hat  and 
goes  out) 

TEISSIER 

Child,  since  your  father  died  you  've  been  surrounded 
by  a  lot  of  scoundrels.  .  .  .  Let 's  go  and  join  your 
family. 

CURTAIN 


THE   WOMAN   OF   PARIS 

(La  Parisienne) 

a  comedy  in  three  acts 

1885 


PERSONS 

Clotilde 

Adèle 

Du  Mesnil 

Lafont 

Simpson 

The  play  takes  place  in  Paris, 


THE    WOMAN    OF   PARIS 


THE    FIRST    ACT 

An  elegantly  furnished  drawing-room.  At  the  rear, 
two  double  doors.  At  the  right,  a  window.  There  are 
side  doors:  a  double  one,  halfway  back,  at  the  right; 
a  single  one  at  the  left,  in  the  foreground.  At  the 
right,  against  the  wall,  a  writing-desk.  On  the  left  side, 
near  the  front  of  the  stage,  is  a  centre-table,  with  a 
blotting-pad  upon  it.  Other  furniture,  mirrors,  flowers, 
etc. 

When  the  curtain  rises,  there  is  nobody  on  the  stage. 
Clotilde,  dressed  for  the  street,  gloved  and  with  her  hat 
on,  comes  in  hurriedly  at  the  rear  door.  She  has  a  let- 
ter in  her  hand;  she  goes  to  the  centre-table,  raises  the 
blotter  and  hides  the  letter  under  it.  Then  she  goes  to 
the  writing-desk,  at  the  same  time  taking  a  bunch  of 
keys  from  her  pocket.  At  this  moment  Lafont  appears. 
He  sees  her  at  the  desk.  She  pretends  to  be  closing  the 
desk  quickly.  Lafont  puts  down  his  hat  with  evident 
emotion  and  goes  over  to  Clotilde.  He  restrains  his 
feelings  with  difficulty. 

LAFONT 

Open  the  desk  and  give  me  that  letter  ! 

CLOTILDE 

No.  \Pause. 

LAFONT 

Open  the  desk  and  give  me  that  letter! 


156  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  want  to. 

{^Another,  and  longer  pause. 

LAFONT 

Where  have  you  been? 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  so  now  it 's  something  else? 

LAFONT 

Yes,  it 's  sometliing  else.  I  want  to  know  where  you 
have  been. 

CLOTILDE 

I  'm  going  to  tell  you.  But  first  I  want  you  to  look 
in  the  glass  and  see  the  face  you  are  making  at  me. 
You  don't  look  beautiful.  I  like  you  better  as  you 
usually  are.  Good  heavens  !  what 's  going  to  happen 
if  you  lose  your  head  entirely  over  a  miserable  note 
sent  by  the  first  person  that  happens  along? 

LAFONT 

Open  that  desk  and  give  me  the  letter. 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  going  to  see  it.  .  .  .  You  ought  to  know 
that  if  we  are  to  have  many  scenes  like  this,  I  '11  be 
through  with  you  pretty  quickly.  I  warn  you  I  'm 
not  going  to  submit  to  an  examination  every  time  I 
set  foot  outdoors. 

LAFONT 

Where  have  you  been? 

CLOTILDE 

Now  try  at  least  to  show  some  sense,  please!  It 
is  n't  likely  that  if  I  had  just  left  somebody,  I  'd 
find  a  letter  from  him  as  soon  as  I  got  in  the  house. 

LAFONT 

Open  that  desk  and  give  me  the  letter. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  157 

CLOTILDE 

Perhaps  you  are  joking? 

LAFONT 

I  don't  look  like  it,  do  I? 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  suspicious  of  me,  then? 

LAFONT 

That 's  more  like  it.    (He  points  at  the  desJc) 

CLOTILDE 

You  want  me  to?  You  insist?  You  demand  it?  All 
right.  {She  fumbles  slowly,  for  the  sake  of  appear- 
ances, in  the  pocket  of  her  dress;  first  she  takes  out 
a  handkerchief  ;  then  she  throws  the  keys  at  him) 
Open  it  yourself.  {He  walks  away  and  stands  still, 
undecided,  fretful)  Come,  pull  yourself  together  and 
open  it.  When  you  begin  a  thing,  you  'd  better  see 
it  through.  Show  you  're  a  man.  {He  makes  up  his 
mind,  goes  toward  the  keys  and  stoops  to  pick  them 
up;  she  approaches  him)  Be  careful  what  you  do. 
If  you  just  touch  those  keys  —  just  with  the  tips  of 
your  fingers  —  you  '11  be  sorry  for  it,  not  I. 
LAFONT  {after  some  hesitation,  picks  up  the  keys  and 
hands  them  to  her)  Take  your  keys. 
[There  is  a  moment's  pause  while  Clotilde  takes  off 
her  hat  and  gloves,  and  makes  herself  comfortable, 

CLOTILDE 

That  makes  it  all  the  worse,  you  know. 

LAFONT 

Makes  what  worse  ? 

CLOTILDE 

The  trouble  is  growing.     I  warn  you, 

LAFONT 

What  trouble? 


158  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

CLOTILDE 

I  knew  you  were  watching  me,  and  I  laughed  at  the 
trouble  you  took  —  all  for  nothing.  Up  to  now  I 
haven't  said  anything  about  it.  It  was  jealousy; 
but  a  kind  of  jealousy  that  flatters  a  woman's  vanity 
and  amuses  her.  Now  you  've  gone  over  to  the  other 
kind  of  jealousy  —  stupid,  tawdry,  brutal  jealousy, 
that  makes  a  woman  feel  bad.  We  don't  forgive  that 
kind  the  second  time. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde  ! 

CLOTILDE 

Going  to  begin  again? 

LAFONT 

No. 

CLOTILDE 

Good  for  you! 

LAFONT 

Clotilde  ! 

CLOTILDE 

What  is  it,  my  friend.'' 

LAFONT 

You  love  me? 

CLOTILDE 

Not  so  much  as  I  did  yesterday. 

LAFONT 

You  want  me  to  be  happy  .f^ 

CLOTILDE 

I  think  I  've  shown  you  whether  I  do  or  not. 

LAFONT 

I  'm  afraid  of  all  those  young  fellows  that  swarm 
around  you. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  159 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  utterly  mistaken.  I  talk  with  all  of  them, 
but  no  sooner  are  their  backs  turned  than  I  can't 
remember  one  from  the  other. 

LAFONT 

Can't  you  remember  a  single  one  whom  you  might 
have  encouraged  thoughtlessly,  and  who  might  think 
he  could  write  to  you? 

CLOTILDE 

Not  one. 
LAFONT  (begging) 

Open  the  desk  and  give  me  that  letter. 

CLOTILDE 

Still  at  it  !  That  letter  is  from  a  friend  of  mine, 
Mrs.  Doyen-Beaulieu  —  {Lafont  starts)  the  most 
proper  woman  alive  —  in  spite  of  her  free  and  easy 
ways.  I  remember  what  Pauline  wrote,  and  I  should 
have  told  you  about  it,  if  you  had  n't  asked  me. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde  ! 

CLOTILDE 

Go  on. 

LAFONT 

Are  you  reasonable? 

CLOTILDE 

More  than  ever. 

LAFONT 

Is  your  mind  calm? 

CLOTILDE 

My  mind  is  calm  ;   and  so  is  my  heart. 

LAFONT 

Think  of  me,  Clotilde,  and  think  of  yourself.  Re- 
member, it 's  easy  to  do  foolish  things,  but  they  can 


160  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

never  be  undone.  Don't  give  way  to  this  mania  for 
adventures,  which  craves  so  many  victims  nowadays. 
Resist  it,  Clotilde,  resist  it.  As  long  as  you  are 
faithful  to  me,  you  are  good  and  honorable  ;  the  day 
you  deceive  me  .   .  . 

CLOTILDE  (stops  Mm,  goes  a  little  way  toward  the  sec- 
ond rear  door  and  then  comes  hack)  Look  out  ; 
here  's  my  husband  ! 

DU  MESNiL  (entering) 

I  knew  it  was  Lafont  I  heard  !  How  you  do  go  on, 
chattering  and  gossiping,  when  you  are  together. 
Thunder  would  n't  stop  you. 

CLOTILDE  {going  to  him,  and  speaking  in  a  low  voice) 
So  you  're  back.'' 

DU    MESNIL 

Yes  ;   I  'm  back  again. 

CLOTILDE 

Have  you  been  here  long.'' 

DU    MESNIL 

Some  little  time. 

CLOTILDE 

It  seems  to  me  when  one  of  your  friends  is  here,  you 
could  show  yourself  and  entertain  him. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  was  finishing  something. 

CLOTILDE 

What  did  your  uncle  have  to  say  to  you,'* 

DU    MESNIL 

I  did  n't  see  him. 

CLOTILDE 

He  's  hard  to  get  at. 

DU    MESNIL 

He  sent  word  for  me  to  come  again  to-day. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  161 

CLOTILDE 

Want  me  to  go  with  you? 

DU    MESNIL 

You  'd  only  be  in  the  way. 

CLOTILDE 

Thanks. 
DU  MESNiL  (going  to  La  font  and  offering  his  hand) 
How  are  you.'' 

LAFONT 

Pretty  well.    And  you.'' 

DU    MESNIL 

Hang  it,  I  'm  not  in  particularly  good  spirits  just 
now. 

LAFONT 

What 's  the  trouble  ? 

DU    MESNIL 

I  work  too  hard,  and  it  affects  my  health. 

LAFONT 

Take  a  rest  then. 

DU    MESNIL 

A  fellow  has  to  have  time  and  money  to  take  a  rest. 

LAFONT 

You  earn  the  money. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  get  it  one  minute  and  spend  it  the  next. 

LAFONT 

That  must  be  fun. 

DU    MESNIL 

It  is  —  when  you  're  young. 

CLOTILDE 

Now  stop  your  whining,  will  you  !  Do  you  suppose 
Mr.  Lafont  is  interested?  Do  you  think  I  like  it? 
What 's  the  use  of  all  this  complaining?    Your  appe- 


162  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

tite  is  all  right.  You  sleep  well  enough.  And  I  don't 
know  of  a  husband  that 's  pampered  as  you  are. 
You  work  !  Of  course  you  work  !  Everybody  works  ! 
If  I  were  you,  I  'd  do  four  times  as  much  work  and 
not  talk  about  it  one-fortieth  as  much. 

DU    MESNIL 

She  's  a  corker,  my  wife  is.  You  don't  know,  old 
chap,  what  it  is  to  have  a  house  like  mine,  where  tb  , 
bills  grow  bigger  every  year,  and  we  acquire  costlier 
habits  every  day. 

CLOTILDE 

Any  more.? 

DU    MESNIL, 

Let  me  talk  a  little.  I  did  n't  interrupt  you,  just 
now.  If  you  're  such  a  busy  bee,  sit  down  and  do 
some  work.  Have  a  look  at  your  children's  knicker- 
bockers ;  the  poor  things  are  always  out  at  the  seat 
of  their  breeches. 

CLOTILDE 

I  spoil  them. 

DU    MESNIL 

But  you  don't  mend  them  enough. 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  the  chambermaid's  job. 

DU    MESNIL 

We  're  living  as  simply  as  we  can.  It  costs  me  a  neat 
little  sum,  I  tell  you,  and  the  place  is  a  regular 
prison  !  Nowadays  servants  are  n't  satisfied  with 
wages  ;  they  have  to  have  salaries.  True  enough, 
we  dine  in  town  frequently  —  almost  every  day.  But 
my  wife,  of  course,  wants  to  be  dressed  like  the  rest, 
so  what  we  save  on  one  thing  is  spent  on  another. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  163 

There  's  one  thing,  though  ;  we  get  better  things  to 
eat. 

CLOTILDE 

There  's  where  you  are  right. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  don't  deny  it.     I  'd  rather  have  a  good  meal  outside 
than  a  poor  one  at  home. 
CLOTILDE  (going  toward  him) 

Now  stop  it,  please,  and  let 's  talk  about  something 
more  agreeable. 

DU    MESNIL 

You  're  a  bachelor,  Lafont.  Well,  take  my  advice 
and  stay  so. 

LAFONT 

Is  that  what  you  think,  Mrs.  Du  Mesnil.'' 

CLOTILDE 

Get  married  or  not;  that's  your  business.  {She 
walks  away) 

DU    MESNIL 

I  hope  you  '11  be  more  agreeable  than  my  wife,  and 
listen  to  what  I  want  to  tell  you.'' 

LAFONT 

Fire  away. 

DU    MESNIL 

Right  at  this  very  moment  there  are  big  things  on 
foot  for  me;    things  mighty  well  worth  while. 

LAFONT 

TeU  me  about  them. 

DU    MESNIL 

It 's  my  uncle,  my  uncle  Jean-Baptiste,  the  member 
of  the  Academy,  who's  at  the  bottom  of  it.  For  a 
long  time  he  has  n't  been  satisfied  with  my  situation. 


164  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

He  wants  me  to  go  back  into  the  Treasury  Depart- 
ment. He  has  friends  there,  and  most  of  them  know 
me  ;  and  these  gentlemen  are  trying  to  work  me  into 
a  certain  collectorship. 

LAFONT 

That's  the  kind  of  a  job  for  you,  where  you'd 
have  plenty  of  time  and  be  under  obligations  to 
nobody. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  'm  not  doing  so  badly  now.  I  'm  in  high  favor  with 
the  agricultural  societies.  They  never  issue  a  state- 
ment without  submitting  it  to  me  first.  My  contri- 
butions to  the  Agricultural  Bulletin  —  I  spring  a 
sensation  there  now  and  then  —  are  pretty  well  re- 
ceived. They  're  making  me  known.  I  take  what- 
ever comes  along.  But  my  uncle  does  n't  see  it  that 
way.  He  thinks  that  at  my  age,  with  a  wife  and 
children,  a  man  ought  to  have  a  fixed  position. 

LAFONT 

He  's  right. 

DU    MESNIl, 

Perhaps  he  is.  I  'm  not  a  mathematician,  nor  an 
economist  ;  I  'm  —  well,  I  'm  not  those.  Between 
you  and  me,  my  little  book,  "  The  Moral  Aspects  of 
the  Appropriation  Bill,"  made  something  of  a  hit. 
The  book  appeals  only  to  the  most  intellectual 
readers,  and  of  course  it  does  n't  go  like  a  best-seller. 
But  up  to  now  one  hundred  and  nineteen  copies  of 
"  Moral  Aspects  "  have  been  sold  —  or  one  hundred 
and  eighteen.  There  's  one  copy  we  can't  find.  Per- 
haps somebody  stole  it.  I  seem  to  see  in  all  this  a 
new  sphere  of  effort  for  me  —  a  new  vein  to  work. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  165 

I^ATONT 

You  'd  better  see  about  the  collectorship  first. 
That 's  the  surest  thing  ;  after  that  you  can  do  what 
you  please.  I  '11  see  what  I  can  do  myself,  to  give 
you  a  boost. 

DU    MESNIIi 

Be  very  careful.  My  uncle  has  got  this  business  well 
in  hand,  and  he  wants  to  settle  it  alone,  with  his 
friends.  It  strikes  me  that  when  a  member  of  the 
Academy  of  Moral  and  Political  Sciences  is  willing 
to  ask  a  favor  ;  when  he  is  asking  it  for  his  nephew  ; 
when  that  nephew  is  somebody  —  the  government 
can't  do  anything  but  grant  it.  Does  n't  it  strike 
you  that  way? 

LAFONT 

There  are  n't  always  places  to  be  had. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  know  there  will  be  soon. 

LAFONT 

Tell  me  —  it 's  sure  they  Ve  promised  you  a  collec- 
torship in  Paris? 

DU    MESNII, 

In  Paris,  of  course.  My  wife  could  n't  live  in  the 
country. 

[During  this  conversation  Clotilde  has  sat  down  near 
the  table.  She  has  taken  the  letter  from  beneath  the 
blotter  and,  taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  her 
husband's  back  is  turned  to  her,  she  has  shown  it 
several  times  to  Lafont  with  a  gesture  signifying: 
"  Look  at  this!  "  This  business  should  be  so  timed 
that  the  last  words  of  Du  Mesnil,  "  My  wife  could  n't 
live  in  the  country,"  come  right  on  top  of  it. 


166  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

CLOTiLDE  {having  risen) 

Adolphe,  read  this  letter. 
DU  MESNiii  (turning  round) 

What  does  it  say? 

CLOTILDE 

Open  it  and  see.      (Handing  him  the  letter)      It  *s 
from  Pauline. 
DU  MESNiL   (reading) 

"  My  dear  —  you  are  going  to  receive,  if  you  have  n't 
already,  an  invitation  to  Mrs.  Simpson's  grand  ball, 
on  the  25th.  Your  self-respect  has  been  in  good 
hands,  and  has  not  been  made  to  suffer.  I  uttered 
your  name,  she  caught  it,  saying  she  knew  you  well, 
that  you  were  a  very  nice  person,  and  that  she  would 
be  charmed  to  have  you  at  her  parties.  So  you  're 
on  the  inside  now  —  I  'm  quite  sure  you  will  like  my 
friend,  and  that  you  will  get  along  well  together. 
It 's  a  fact,  she  is  n't  so  young  as  she  used  to  be. 
You  tell  me  what  age  you  think  she  is^  and  I  will  tell 
you  how  old  she  really  is.  But  just  the  same,  when 
she  is  dressed  for  the  ball,  décolletée,  with  all  her 
diamonds  on,  Mrs.  Simpson,  though  no  longer  queen 
of  the  ball,  can  still  make  a  hit.  Such  arms!  And 
eyes!  A  way  of  smiling  I  never  saw  the  like  of! 
And  so  easy-going!  Nothing  shocks  her.  She  un- 
derstands every  weakness.  There 's  no  frivolity, 
no  matter  how  far  it  may  go,  that  does  n't  seem 
interesting  or  excusable  to  her." 
{Du  Mesnil,  uneasy  and  shocked,  turns  to  Lafont. 
The  latter,  still  more  affected,  returns  the  look;  they 
exchange  expressions  of  vexation,  nodding  their 
heads  in  unison  several  times. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  167 

DU  MESNiL  (going  over  the  letter) 

"And  so  easy-going!"  (He  looks  at  Lafont,  and 
they  go  through  the  same  business)  "  Nothing  shocks 
her!"  {Same  business)  "She  understands  every 
weakness  !  "  {Same  business)  "  There  's  no  frivolity, 
however  far  it  may  go  "  .  .  .  {Going  over  to  Clo- 
tilde,  who  thus  is  placed  between  the  two  men;  Du 
Mesnil  on  her  right)  I  don't  think  much  of  that  let- 
ter of  Pauline's. 

LAFONT  {at  the  left) 

Your  friend  is  rather  inconsistent,  Mrs.  Du  Mesnil. 

DU    MESNIL 

There  you  see  !  I  know  this  Mrs.  Simpson.  They 
tell  some  queer  stories  about  her. 

LAFONT 

Mrs.  Simpson  has  a  deplorable  reputation. 

DU    MESNIL 

You  hear,  don't  you?  I  don't  want  you  to  visit  a 
house  that  might  compromise  you. 

LAFONT 

I  assure  you,  it  is  no  place  for  you,  among  a  lot  of 
women  of  doubtful  reputation. 

DU    MESNIL 

Well?  It  ought  to  mean  something  to  you  to  see 
Lafont  and  me  of  exactly  the  same  mind. 

CLOTILDE 

All  right.  We  '11  do  whatever  you  please.  {With  a 
look  at  Lafont)  If  we  aren't  going  to  Mrs.  Simp- 
son's, we  '11  go  somewhere  else,  that 's  all.  But  in  the 
future,  please  wait  till  we  are  alone,  before  speaking 
of  certain  things.  I  'm  not  accustomed  to  take  ad- 
vice from  strangers.  {She  moves  away  from  them 
abruptly) 


168  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

DU    MESNIL, 

What 's  that?  Lafont!  A  stranger?  (To  Lafont) 
So  you  've  had  a  row  with  Clotilde? 

LAFONT 

No,  it 's  you.  Since  you  've  been  here,  you  've  stirred 
her  up  unnecessarily. 

DU  MESNH.  {going  over  to  Clotilde) 

I  'm  going. 
CLOTILDE  {dryly) 

Good  luck  ! 

DU    MESNIL 

What  are  you  going  to  do  to-day.? 

CLOTILDE 

Whatever  I  please. 

DU    MESNIL 

Where  '11  we  dine  this  evening? 

CLOTILDE 

I  know  nothing  about  that. 

DU    MESNIL 

What  kind  of  a  way  is  that  to  answer  me? 

CLOTILDE 

I  'm  going  to  be  careful  what  I  say  to  a  quarrel- 
some, disobliging  man. 

DU    MESNIL 

So  you  think  it 's  a  good  thing  to  go  to  this  ball  ? 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  care  a  snap  about  this  ball.  I  had  already 
forgotten  it.  I  'm  no  débutante,  I  guess,  to  go  wild 
about  any  particular  ball.  But  you  've  got  to  com- 
plain !  You  've  got  to  whine  !  You  haul  your  wife 
over  the  coals  without  the  slightest  regard  for  her 
feelings  !    Anyone  that  heard  you  would  get  a  pretty 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  169 

poor  idea  —  and  a  false  idea,  too  —  of  our  home 
life. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  was  only  fooling,  girlie!  Don't  be  mad  at  me. 
There  are  a  lot  of  husbands  like  me.  I  growl  around 
for  about  three  seconds,  and  when  you  've  made  up 
your  mind  what  you  want,  that 's  what  finally  hap- 
pens. Who  's  the  boss  here?  {She  smiles)  My  mind 
is  full  of  this  collectorship.  It  would  be  a  great 
thing  for  us.  We  ought  to  think  more  about  it. 
Come,  Clotilde,  looking  at  it  in  the  light  of  reason, 
do  you  think  I  '11  get  it-f* 

CLOTILDE 

We  '11  see. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  've  got  my  degrees,  have  n't  I? 

CLOTILDE 

Degrees?    They  're  no  good. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  've  got  the  support  of  able  men. 

CLOTILDE 

Without  any  influence. 

DU    MESNIL 

Don't  you  think  the  good-will  of  the  Academy  is  a 
strong  point? 

CLOTILDE 

You  may  be  wrong  in  not  wanting  me  to  meddle  with 
the  business. 

DU    MESNIL 

What  would  you  do? 

CLOTILDE 

A  thousand  things  that  are  no  trouble  to  a  woman, 
and  give  her  a  chance  to  go  around  a  little.    I  should 


170  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

put  all  my  women  friends  to  work;  Pauline  first  of 
all.  Pauline  likes  you  very  much.  She  even  wishes 
her  husband  were  like  you!  Pauline,  who  is  hand  in 
glove  with  Mrs.  Simpson,  would  get  her  interested 
in  our  affairs.  When  you  don't  want  to  go  to  Mrs. 
Simpson's,  you  make  me  laugh.  What  does  she  care 
for  us.?  She  receives  the  best  people  in  Paris.  She 
always  has  two  or  three  diplomats  at  her  table.  She 
would  have  you  to  dinner  with  them.  You  would  tell 
them  what  you  have  in  mind  —  you  could  speak  con- 
fidently, as  man  to  man,  smoking  those  big  cigars  you 
are  so  fond  of.  Then,  when  otherwise  the  "  powers 
that  be  "  would  be  telling  you  :  "  We  're  sorry,  but 
the  place  has  already  been  disposed  of  "  —  then  you 
would  be  able  to  say  :  "  I  know  it  has  —  the  appoint- 
ment is  in  my  pocket  now."  That 's  the  way  I  look 
at  this  business. 

DU    MESNIL 

Perhaps  you  're  right.  But  wait.  Don't  let  us  be 
rash.  If  at  any  time  I  see  that  things  are  going 
badly,  and  that  my  resources  are  insufficient,  then 
we  can  always  try  your  way. 

CLOTILDE 

Whenever  you  like.  .  .  .  (Whispers)  You  know  the 
way  I  get  around  you.     {They  laugh) 

DU    MESNIL 

I  'm  going  to  see  my  uncle.  Shall  I  take  Lafont  with 
me,  or  will  you  keep  him  here  ? 

CLOTILDE 

I  '11  keep  him  here.  He  provokes  me,  but  he  amuses 
me,  too.  I  always  have  to  laugh  at  his  nose.  {They 
laugh) 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  171 

DU    MESNIL 

You  treat  poor  Lafont  badly.  And  he  is  so  friendly 
and  obliging. 

CLOTiLDE  {in  her  husband's  ear) 

I  should  n't  care  to  be  kissed  by  a  man  with  a  nose 
like  his.   {They  laugh) 

DU  MESNiL  {going  over  to  Lafont) 

Well,  so  long  !  You  'd  better  not  come  with  me,  if 
I  'm  as  disagreeable  as  my  wife  says  I  am.  You 
don't  know  what  it  is  to  have  a  wife  and  children. 
A  fellow  loves  them  a  whole  lot,  and  is  always  think- 
ing about  them,  and  finds  time  hanging  heavy  when 
they  're  not  around  ;  but  all  that  does  n't  prevent  him 
at  times  from  wishing  them  to  the  devil.  {He  goes 
out) 

CLOTILDE 

There  you  can  see  that  we  have  to  be  a  little  careful. 
If  my  husband  had  come  in  a  minute  earlier,  it  would 
have  been  all  up  with  me.    {A  pau>se) 

LAFONT 

You  are  making  a  fool  of  me. 

CLOTILDE 

Why  so.'' 

LAFONT 

With  that  letter.  {She  laughs)  It  would  have  been  so 
easy  to  show  it  to  me  at  once. 

CLOTILDE 

I  thought  you  would  n't  like  it,  and  I  was  right. 
Besides,  it  was  a  trap  I  set  for  you.  I  wanted  to  see 
if  you  'd  stop  in  time. 

LAFONT 

To  fall  into  it  another  time. 


172  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  it  exactly.  You  are  very  foolish,  my  friend, 
and  your  surmises  are  not  very  fortunate  either. 
Come  now,  I  want  to  do  something  for  you,  though 
you  don't  deserve  it  a  bit.  My  husband  opens  all 
my  letters  ;  all  of  them,  every  last  one.  Don't  worry 
about  that  ;  I  prefer  it  so.  Sit  down  and  let 's  talk 
awhile,  please.  We  can  talk  without  quarrelling, 
can't  we?  What  with  my  husband  on  one  side,  and 
with  you  on  the  other,  I  get  rather  too  much  of  it  in  a 
single  day.  Won't  you  tell  me  what  is  rankling  in 
you;  what  the  meaning  is  of  this  jealousy  that  has 
become  so  alarming?  It  got  hold  of  you  all  of  a  sud- 
den, without  warning  .  .  .  about  the  15th  of  Janu- 
ary. {He  looks  at  her;  she  smiles)  I  have  reason 
for  remembering  that  date. 

LAFONT 

What  reason? 

CLOTILDE 

I  have  one,  that 's  enough.  Now  we  're  not  going  to 
discuss  every  word.  Come  —  you  talk  —  I  'm  listen- 
ing. 

LAFONT  (after  hesitating) 
Where  have  you  been? 

CLOTILDE  (laughing) 

That 's  right  —  I  owe  you  an  apology,  my  friend. 
I  forgot  you  had  asked  me  that  question  several 
times,  and  that  I  had  n't  answered  it.  I  had  an 
appointment  —  don't  lose  your  head  about  it  !  —  with 
my  milliner.  You  don't  meet  very  many  men  there, 
I  assure  you.  Surely  you  will  let  me  go  to  my  mil- 
liner's now  and  then.  Now  do  what  I  tell  you, 
and  answer  my  question.     Let  me  know  how  I  have 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  173 

wronged  you.  I  always  find  it  so  hard  to  discover 
it  myself. 

LAFONT 

I  don't  see  much  of  you  these  days. 

CLOTILDE 

Nonsense!  What  are  you  doing  now?  Am  I  not 
here?  If  you  want  to  waste  on  discussions  and  quar- 
relling the  time  we  could  put  in  more  agreeably  — 
that 's  your  loss. 

LAFONT 

I  waited  for  you  all  this  week  .  .  .  last  week,  too 
.  .  .  and  the  week  before  that,  too.  .  .  . 

CLOTILDE 

Fiddledeedee !  Why  not  a  year?  When  you  had 
waited  that  long,  and  I  had  broken  my  word  with 
you,  not  once,  but  a  hundred  times,  then  you  'd  have 
good  cause  to  imagine  terrible  things.  Can  I  always 
do  as  I  please?  Am  I  not  dependent  on  everybody 
in  this  house?  {Touching  his  arm)  You  don't  seem 
to  realize  that  I  'm  married.  .  .  .  No  ;  there  's  some- 
thing else.     I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  it  is. 

LAFONT 

It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  getting  tired  of  our 
friendship  .  .  .  that  you  are  looking  for  something 
new,  and  perhaps  you  have  found  it  .  .  .  that  we 
are  at  the  inevitable  moment  when  lying  begins  .  .  . 
and  bad  faith  .  .  .  and  the  rest  of  the  nasty  little 
tricks. 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  know  when  all  those  nice  things  begin.  You 
are  better  informed  than  I  on  that  point.  I  'm  ask- 
ing you  for  facts  —  straight,  brief,  definite  —  some- 
thing I  might   meet  with  a   single   word.      Do   you 


174  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

want  an  answer  to  what  goes  on  in  your  imagination? 
Your  imagination  does  n't  seem  to  me  very  joyous  or 
full  of  pleasant  memories. 

liAFONT 

That   date  .  .  .  the    15th   of    January  .  .  .  which 
'    you  are  so  exact  about.  .  .  . 
CLOTiLDE  (more  attentive) 

Well,  that  date.? 

LAFONT 

I  seem  to  remember  it,  too. 

CLOTILDE 

Own  up  now,  that  you  don't  remember  anything  of 
the  kind.  I  should  n't  have  put  the  date  in  your  head. 
It  means  something  to  me,  but  nothing  at  all  to  you. 

LAFONT 

I  've  noticed  other  things  besides. 

CLOTILDE 

What  are  they? 

LAFONT 

Oh,  a  lot  of  things. 

CLOTILDE 

What  things? 

LAFONT 

Oh,  nothing;  they're  —  well,  intuitions.  But  you 
can't  fool  with  intuitions. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  trot  out  some  of  your  intuitions,  and  ^et  's 
look  at  them. 

LAFONT 

You  've  changed  a  good  deal,  my  dear,  without  giving 
any  explanation.  For  one  thing,  you  make  fun  of 
me.  That  is  n't  polite.  I  find  you  absent-minded 
very  often  ;   and  very  often  embarrassed,  too.     I  see 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  175 

that  you  're  hiding  from  me  what  you  have  been  do- 
ing ;  and  I  'm  afraid  to  ask  you.  Sometimes  you 
contradict  yourself.   .  .  . 

CLOTILDE 

How  surprising! 

LAFONT 

You  talk  to  me  about  people  who  live  in  another 
world  than  yours,  and  you  know  their  comings  and 
goings  by  heart.  How?  It 's  you  now  that  tell  me 
the  current  scandal  —  I  used  to  have  the  fun  of  tell- 
ing you.  And  your  political  opinions  are  not  the 
same! 

CLOTILDE 

What  a  child  you  are  !  And  so  am  I,  too,  for  taking 
you  seriously.  My  political  opinions  !  You  mean 
that  I  am  a  reactionary?  I  haven't  changed.  Oh, 
yes,  in  that  way  ;  yes,  you  're  right  —  I  am  a  good 
reactionary.  I  like  peace  and  order  and  old,  estab- 
lished principles.  I  want  the  churches  to  remain 
open,  in  case  I  should  take  it  into  my  head  to  go 
to  them.  I  want  the  stores  to  be  open,  too,  and  full 
of  pretty  things.  I  like  to  look  at  them  even  if  I 
can't  buy  them.  But  even  supposing  my  political 
opinions  should  have  become  modified,  it  seems  to  me 
that  you  are  the  last  one  who  has  a  right  to  complain 
of  that.  You  don't  despise  the  new  things  that  are 
coming  up.  You  are  a  democrat.  But,  of  course, 
that 's  a  fad  which  does  n't  commit  you  to  anything 
these  days.  One  finds  democrats  in  all  parties. 
You  're  a  freethinker  !  Why,  I  believe  you  could  get 
along  with  a  mistress  who  had  no  religion  at  all. 
It 's  disgusting  !  .  .  .  What  was  it  my  husband  had 
to  tell  you,  if  I  may  ask? 


176  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

LAFONT 

He  spoke  of  a  position  he  wants  to  get,  and  perhaps 
will  get. 

CLOTILDE 

Were  you  interested? 

LAFONT 

Very  much. 

CLOTILDE 

You  say  "  very  much  "  just  as  you  would  say  "  not 
the  least."     How  do  you  think  my  husband  looks.'' 

LAFONT 

Very  well. 

CLOTILDE 

He  does  n't  strike  you  as  care-worn  or  tired  .f* 

LAFONT 

No. 

CLOTILDE 

Never  mind.  I  don't  know  why  I  speak  of  Adolph 
to  you,  seeing  how  you  feel  toward  him.  But  it 
does  n't  matter.  Here  is  what  I  was  getting  at.  You 
know  my  husband  is  looking  for  a  position  ;  it  goes 
without  saying  he  's  looking  to  the  government  for 
it.  Whatever  the  government  may  be,  when  you  're 
looking  for  a  place,  you  have  to  make  your  applica- 
tion to  it.  And  you  think  I  am  going  to  criticize 
the  government  just  when  our  affairs  are  at  stake.'' 
That 's  what  à  man  would  do.  A  man  chatters  so 
much  ;  a  man  is  so  clumsy  and  ungrateful  !  Women 
are  never  like  that.  .  .  .  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you 
what 's  the  matter  with  you.''  You  've  given  way  to 
a  miserable  feeling  of  self-interest.  Probably  you 
thought,  in  going  ahead  the  way  you  have,  that 
you  'd  find  out  something;   but  you  don't  know  any- 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  177 

thing,  and  you  won't  know  anything  —  because 
there 's  nothing  to  know.  It 's  a  lesson  for  me, 
though.  Meanwhile,  bear  this  in  mind  :  you  must  be 
prudent,  and  patient,  and  have  confidence,  and  be  sat- 
isfied with  what  I  can  give  you,  without  demanding 
the  impossible.  You  ought  to  realize  that  I  'm  not 
free  to  do  as  I  please.  I  have  a  house  to  look  after, 
and  appearances  to  keep  up.  Pleasure  comes  in  the 
second  place.  Remember,  too,  that  the  least  outburst 
from  you  might  compromise  me,  and  if  my  husband 
should  ever  learn>  anything,  I  don't  know  what  he  'd 
do  with  me.  Now  understand  me,  once  for  all:  I 
don't  want  to  find  you  again  as  you  were  to-day  — 
planted  right  in  front  of  my  door,  waving  your  hands 
and  ready  to  eat  everybody  alive  —  when  I  get  back 
from  a  quiet  little  visit  to  my  dressmaker.  {Lafont, 
who  has  heard  all  this  xsnth  bowed  head,  svddenly 
looks  up)    Well?    What 's  the  matter  now.'' 

LAFONT 

Where  have  you  been.'' 

CLOTILDE 

I  just  told  you. 

LAFONT 

Is  it  your  milliner  or  your  dressmaker  you've  just 
come  from? 

CLOTILDE 

Why? 

LAFONT 

Answer  me.  Is  it  your  milliner  or  dressmaker  you  've 
just  come  from? 

CLOTILDE 

I  've  seen  both  of  them.  There,  are  you  satisfied? 
.   .  .  Now  you  must  be  going. 


178  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  [act  i 

LAFONT 

No. 

CLOTILDE 

Yes. 

LAFONT 

In  a  little  while. 

CLOTILDE 

Right  now. 

LAFONT 

What 's  your  hurry? 

CLOTILDE 

I  'm  in  no  hurry. 

LAFONT 

Let  me  stay  then. 

CLOTILDE 

Impossible.  If  my  husband  comes  back  and  finds 
you  still  here,  he  might  be  seriously  angry.  Come, 
be  sensible  and  say  good-bye.  Next  time  you  '11  do 
less  talking. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde.? 

CLOTILDE 

What  is  it  now.'' 

LAFONT 

I  'm  going  back  to  my  house, 

CLOTILDE 

Go  ahead  ;   I  'm  not  stopping  you. 

LAFONT 

You  know  what  time  it  is.? 

CLOTILDE 

About. 

LAFONT 

The  day  is  n't  over  yet. 


ACT  i]  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  179 

CLOTILDE 

It  won't  begin  again. 

LAFONT 

All  you  have  to  do  is  put  on  your  hat  ;  that  is  n't 
much. 

CLOTILDE 

I  thought  that 's  what  you  were  getting  at.  I  'd  be 
very  much  surprised  if  all  your  talk  ended  any  other 
way. 

LAFONT 

Put  on  your  hat,  will  you? 

CLOTILDE 

Very  well.  That 's  the  only  good  idea  you  've  had 
lately.   I  may  as  well  take  advantage  of  it.    Go  ahead. 

LAFONT 

You  '11  come  after  me? 

CLOTILDE 

I  '11  be  with  you. 

LAFONT  i 

Soon? 

CLOTILDE 

In  a  few  minutes.    But  run  along  now. 

LAFONT 

Immediately  ? 

CLOTILDE 

Immediately.     {He  goes  out) 
[Clotilde  rings. 
ADÈLE  (^entering) 

Did  you  ring,  ma'am? 

CLOTILDE 

Adèle,  give  me  my  dressing-gown  and  slippers.  I  'm 
not  going  out  again. 

CURTAIN 


THE    SECOND    ACT 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  in  the  first  act. 

CLOTiLDE  (dressed  a/nd  ready  to  go  out,  is  giving  one 
last  glance  at  herself  in  the  glass)  Do  I  look  all  right, 
Adèle? 

ADÈLE 

Yes,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

Very  well? 

ADÈLE 

Very  well,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

What  time  is  it? 

ADÈLE 

Almost  three  o'clock,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

Is  everything  I  need  on  this  table? 

ADÈLE 

All  you  usually  take.     Your  keys,  note-book,  and 
box  of  rice  powder. 

CLOTILDE 

Give  them  to  me. 
ADÈLE  {xvith  a  knowing  air) 

You  won't  be  back  to-day,  ma'am,  will  you? 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  181 

CLOTILDE 

Possibly  not. 
ADÈLE  (in  the  same  tone) 
Probably  not? 

CLOTILDE 

Why  probably? 

ADÈLE 

Mr.  Du  Mesnil  is  dining  at  the  Economist  Club.  He 
would  n't  quit  there  for  a  king's  ransom. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  what  of  it? 

ADÈLE 

I  've  noticed  that  on  such  occasions  you  pass  the 
day  with  your  —  your  schoolmate  —  the  one  Mr. 
Du  Mesnil  has  never  seen. 

CLOTILDE 

So  you  've  been  listening? 

ADÈLE 

No,  ma'am,  I  don't  listen.  ...  I  've  caught  a  few 
words  here  and  there,  that 's  all.  ...  I  've  already 
told  you,  ma'am,  that  my  brother  .  .  . 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  yes,  I  know  all  about  that  brother!  You  want 
to  go  out.     All  right,  go  on. 

ADÈLE 

Thank  you,  ma'am.  (Clotilde  goes  toward  the  rear 
door)  There  's  nothing  else  you  want,  ma'am? 

CLOTILDE  j»j 

No.  Don't  let  the  cook  go  out,  and  ask  her  to  be 
within  reach  when  Mr.  Du  Mesnil  comes  home  to 
dress. 

ADÈLE 

Yes,  ma'am.     Shall  I  call  a  carnage,  ma'am? 


182  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

CLOTILDE 

You  need  n^t  bother.     I  '11  get  one  on  my  way. 
ADÈLE  (following  Clotilde) 

Good-bye,  ma'am.  .  .  .  Enjoy  yourself. 

[When  they  reach  the  door  they  are  halted  abruptly 

by  the  sound  of  the  door-bell.    A  pause. 

ADÈLE 

Somebody  's  ringing,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

I  know  it.    {Retracing  her  steps)   Three  o'clock  !  He 
has  n't    seen    me    for    a   long   time  !     He    knows   the 
Economist  Club  dinner  is  to-day.     I  ought  to  have 
expected  he  would  have  a  relapse. 
[Th^re  is  a  second  ring  at  the  bell. 

ADÈLE 

What  shall  I  do,  ma'am.'' 

CLOTILDE 

Answer  it,  Adèle.    I  'm  not  at  home  to  anyone. 

ADÈLE 

If  it  should  be  Mr.  Lafont,  ma'am.? 

CLOTILDE 

I  said  I  was  not  at  home  to  anyone.  That  includes 
Mr.  Lafont  as  well  as  anyone  else. 

ADÈLE 

Yes,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

Leave  the  doors  open  so  I  can  hear  what  is  said.  If 
it  should  be  somebody  wanting  to  see  my  husband, 
ask  him  to  wait,  and  I  '11  come  out. 

ADÈLE 

I  understand,  ma'am.  {A  third  ring)  Yes,  we  're 
very  impatient,  but  it  won't  help  much  ! 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  183 

CLOTILDE 

I  ought  to  have  hurried.  I  should  have  been  on  my 
way  by  now,  and  then  I  would  n't  have  been  bothered. 
{Going  to  the  rear  door,  which  she  holds  ajar)  It 's 
him,  sure  enough.  He  could  n't  miss  such  a  fine 
chance.  .  .  .  Come,  speak  up,  why  don't  you? 
That 's  right  ;  question  the  servant  !  I  think  he  's 
asking  Adèle  where  I  am.  .  .  .  He  's  insisting.  .  .  . 
What,?  Adèle  is  letting  him  in!  {Returning  to  the 
front  of  the  stage,  slowly)  My  goodness,  he  's  com- 
ing in,  he's  coming  in!  Is  he  going  to  wait  here? 
Oh,  these  men  !  When  we  don't  care  for  them  any 
longer,  how  they  do  run  after  us  !  {She  goes  quickly 
to  the  right  and  hides  behind  the  door,  where  she  can 
watch  what  happens  on  the  stage) 
L,AFONT  {entering) 

All  right,  my  girl,  all  right. 

ADÈLE 

Why  don't  you  take  my  word  for  it,  sir?     You  can 
see  there  's  no  one  here. 

LAFONT 

I  'U  wait. 

ADÈLE 

Wait  for  whom?     My  mister  and  mistress  have  both 
gone  out. 
LAFONT  {hesitating) 
Together  ? 

ADÈLE 

No,  sir,  not  together.     He  went  out  alone,  and  so 
did  she. 

LAFONT 

Did  Mr.  Du  Mesnil  say  when  he  would  be  back? 


184  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

ADÈLE 

All  I  know  is  that  Mrs.  Du  Mesnil  is  n't  coming  back. 
She  's  going  to  dine  in  town. 
LAFONT   {after  some  hesitation) 
With  Mr.  Du  Mesnil.? 

ADÈLE 

No,  sir.     They  are  going  to  dine  separately. 

LAFONT 

You  can  go  on  with  your  work,  my  girl.    I  see  some 
writing  materials  here  ;   I  '11  leave  a  Httle  note. 

ADÈLE 

As  you  please,  sir.     I  'm  not  the  boss  here.     I  can't 
show  you  the  door.    {She  goes  out) 

LAFONT  {not  aware  of  Clotilde,  mho  is  still  hiding  hef- 
hind  the  door  at  the  right)  I  'm  here.  I  don't  know 
why  I  'm  here,  though.  I  've  put  my  foot  in  it  again. 
...  I  've  got  to  cool  off  and  make  up  my  mind  to 
a  separation  that  has  become  necessary.  ...  In 
Paris  you  can't  keep  a  semi-respectable  mistress  ;  it 
is  n't  possible.  The  more  respectable  she  is,  the  less 
chance  you  have  of  keeping  her.  .  .  .  I  'm  going  to 
have  an  explanation  with  Clotilde  ...  an  explana- 
tion that  will  move  heaven  and  earth  !  It  will  be  the 
graceful  thing  for  me  to  do  ;  and  then  I  '11  break 
with  her  once  and  for  all.  Here  I  'm  in  a  turmoil, 
running  after  her,  looking  for  her  this  way  while 
she  is  running  that  way  .  .  .  What 's  the  use  ?  What 
more  do  I  need  to  know.?  .  .  .  She  is  the  mistress  of 
that  man  Mercier  ;  it 's  as  clear  as  daylight.  Since 
when.?  What  good  would  it  do  me  to  know.?  —  And 
why?  That's  it;  why?  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  can 
tell  why  !     Probably  she  does  n't  really  care  for  him 


ACT  n]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  185 

—  which  would  be  some  consolation.  .  .  .  What  am  I 
going  to  do?  If  Adolph  were  only  here,  we  might 
spend  the  day  together.  It 's  the  truth  :  I  always 
care  more  for  the  husband  when  I  'm  sick  at  heart  ; 
and  Clotilde  has  been  standing  me  on  my  head.  He 
makes  me  feel  less  lonely.  In  Adolph's  position  there 
is  a  certain  consolation  for  my  own  —  for  his  is 
worse  than  mine  —  of  course,  it  's  worse  !  After  all, 
if  Clotilde  owes  no  respect  to  me,  she  's  doing  her 
husband  a  very  great  wrong.  .  .  .  I  'm  capable  of 
judging  her  conduct  severely,  now  that  I  find  myself 
in  the  same  box  with  her  husband.  .  .  .  What  utter 
loneliness  !  Here  I  am  marooned  all  at  once,  with 
nothing  to  cling  to,  sick  at  heart,  confronted  with 
a  disgusting  situation,  and  getting  farther  into  it 
all  the  time  !  Say,  but  men  have  a  hard  time  of  it  ! 
Either  celibates  or  cuckolds  —  and  between  those  two 
states  the  choice  is  hardly  worth  while. 
CLOTILDE  (coming  forward) 

Well,  I  may  as  well  come  out.  At  any  rate,  I  '11 
know  what  he  wants  of  me. 

LAFONT 

What!    You  here? 

CLOTILDE 

Well  ?  What 's  strange  about  my  being  here  ?  The 
strange  thing  is  your  being  here  —  you,  whom  I  for- 
bade the  house  —  and  in  plain  language,  too.  This 
is  the  way  you  thank  me  for  my  forbearance  !  You 
are  constantly  inventing  new  ways  of  displeasing 
me,  and  I  'm  fool  enough  to  forgive  you  every  time. 

LAFONT 

It 's  your  fault  ! 


186  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  n 

CL,0  TILDE 

Oh,  please  don't  begin  again  !  No  scenes  to-day  !  I 
simply  won't  be  dragged  into  one.  Had  you  any 
reason  —  any  pretext  —  some  frightful  discovery 
that  you  could  n't  keep  to  yourself  any  longer? 

LAFONT 

Really,  I  was  afraid  you  were  suffering. 

CLOTILDE 

That  was  very  nice  of  you.  Now  you  've  seen  me, 
and  reassured  yourself — {she  points  at  the  door, 
imitating  with  her  hand  the  flight  of  a  bird) — fly 
away.     {A  pause) 

LAFONT 

Are  you  going  out.? 

CL.OTILDE 

It  looks  like  it,  does  n't  it  ?  As  a  rule  I  don't  parade 
around  my  apartment  with  my  hat  on. 

LAFONT 

Are  you  in  a  hurry  .f* 

CLOTILDE 

I  'm  late  now. 

LAFONT 

Let 's  not  make  up  our  minds  yet. 

CLOTILDE 

What  do  you  mean  by  that.? 

LAFONT 

I  thought  we  might  have  dinner  together;  if  I  am 
still  your  old  schoolmate. 

CLOTILDE 

There  's  no  longer  any  schoolmate  —  neither  you  nor 
anybody  else.  I  've  come  to  the  conclusion  that  these 
restaurant  frolics  have  all  kinds  of  disadvantages. 


ACT  n]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  187 

Tlicy  lead  me  into  lies  I  don't  like  to  tell;  and  I 
can't  do  so  any  more.  .  .  .  Am  I  not  right? 

LAFONT 

Don't  ask  me  what  I  think. 

CLOTILDE 

Do  you  want  me  to? 

LAFONT 

I  am  ready  for  anything  after  this. 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  always  the  wisest  plan.  Then  you  '11  never 
be  disappointed. 

LAFONT 

Come,  be  nice  now  !  Let 's  sit  down  and  have  a 
friendly  talk. 

CLOTILDE 

I  have  n't  the  time  ...  to  talk.  Some  other  day 
—  to-morrow,  if  that  '11  suit  you. 

LAFONT 

To-morrow  I  'd  be  waiting  for  you,  and  at  the  last 
moment  something  else  would  turn  up  to  keep  you 
from  coming. 

CLOTILDE 

You  don't  want  to-morrow?  .  .  .  Just  as  you  please. 
That  suits  me  perfectly.  I  'm  never  anxious  to  be 
with  discontented,  disagreeable  people. 

LAFONT 

It 's  love  that  makes  me  so. 
CLOTILDE  (pouting) 
Love  is  a  bore. 

LAFONT 

Oh,  please  have  pity  on  me  ;  please  !  It 's  easy  to 
see  you  don't  feel  as  I  do.  Here  I  'm  in  despair, 
chilled  to  the  heart,  while  you  are  gadding  around. 


188  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

CLOTILDE 

Gadding!  What  kind  of  an  expression  do  you  call 
that  ?  Admitting  I  am  cold  toward  you  —  which  is 
possible  —  do  you  think  a  woman  can  be  won  back 
by  carrying  on  as  you  have  been  doing  —  harassing 
her  all  the  time?  It  has  the  very  opposite  effect; 
she  gets  bored,  and  angry,  and  you  put  notions  in 
her  head  that  she  would  never  have  dreamed  of  other- 
wise. {Approaching  him  with  feigned  tenderness 
that  deceives  him  for  the  moment)  Take  a  little  trip 
somewhere.  (Lafont  starts)  Yes;  take  a  little  trip. 
Disappear  .  .  .  for  six  months  —  that  would  n't  be 
so  terrible.  A  separation  would  be  just  the  thing  at 
this  time.  When  you  came  back,  your  disposition 
would  be  improved.  You  need  n't  be  afraid  on  my 
account.  I  'm  not  the  kind  of  a  woman  that  forgets 
things  readily.  You  'd  find  me  just  as  I  used  to  be. 
Don't  you  want  to  try  it.'*  No;  you  don't!  You 
can't  go  away  for  six  months  when  your  mistress  asks 
it  as  a  favor;  even  though  she  would  regard  it  as  a 
real  sign  of  your  love.    {A  pause) 

LAFONT 

Where  are  you  going .'' 

CLOTILDE 

Is  that  the  only  answer  I  get? 

LAFONT 

Where  are  you  going? 

CLOTILDE 

I  felt  so  sure  you  would  ask  that  question  that  I  've 
been  waiting  for  it  ever  since  you  came  in! 

LAFONT 

Does  it  embarrass  you? 


ACT  n]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  189 

CLOTILDE 

Not  in  the  least.  You  'd  be  a  good  deal  better  off, 
would  n't  you,  when  you  knew  where  I  was  going? 
And  what 's  to  prevent  my  saying,  "  I  'ra  going 
such  and  such  a  place  "  —  and  then  I  might  go  some- 
where else? 

LAFONT 

I  'd  follow  you. 

CLOTILDE 

Follow  me  ?  I  dare  you  to  !  Much  good  it  has  done 
you  so  far.  Be  careful.  I  am  fond  of  you  — 
really  fond  of  you.  I  make  allowances  for  every- 
thing; for  the  condition  you  are  in,  and  for  the 
moments  we  have  spent  together  :  but  you  must  n't 
think  you  can  take  undue  advantage  of  these  things. 
(^Pointedly^  I  do  as  I  choose;  and  it  concerns  no- 
body but  my  husband. 

LAFONT 

You  're  deceiving  me  ! 

CLOTILDE 

I?  .  .  .  With  whom?  .  .  .  Who?  .  .  .  Who?  .  .  . 
You  'd  better  learn  that  suspicions  are  n't  enough, 
when  you  accuse  a  woman.  You  've  got  to  have  the 
proof.  When  there  is  proof,  and  a  woman  is  really 
guilty,  a  real  man  knows  what  he  has  to  do  ;  he  has 
to  leave  her  ...  or  keep  still. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde  ! 

CLOTILDE 

Who  ?  .  .  .  Tell  his  name,  if  you  know  it  !  I  'd  like 
to  know  the  name  of  this  Don  Juan.  Perhaps  I 
weary  him  by  running  after  him  ;  and  he  does  n't 
think  himself  so  very  lucky  !  .   .   .  You  're  forcing  me 


190  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  n 

to  tell  you  something  I  wanted  to  keep  from  you. 
I  've  done  a  terribly  wrong  thing  !  I  had  a  husband, 
and  children,  and  a  cosey  little  home  ;  and  I  wanted 
more  ;  I  wanted  everything.  Like  all  women,  I  have 
had  dreams  about  an  ideal  life,  in  which  I  could  do 
my  duty  without  giving  all  my  love  —  a  combination 
of  heaven  and  earth  !  It  was  your  fate  to  be  the  one 
to  show  me  how  impossible  it  is.  I  don't  know  how 
another  woman  might  have  succeeded  ;  there  's  noth- 
ing in  it  for  me.  I  've  done  it,  it  can't  be  helped  now  ; 
but  it  will  be  the  first  and  last  time.  (She  takes  out 
her  handkerchief  and  puts  it  to  her  eyes  with  a  slight 
show  of  emotion) 

liAFONT 

You  're  suffering  ! 
CLOTiLDE  {^sitting  down) 
It 's  nothing  !    It  will  pass  ! 

LAFONT 

I  was  wrong. 
CLOTILDE  {with  deep  feeling) 
Very  wrong. 

LAFONT 

I  '11  go. 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  what  you  'd  better  do. 
LAFONT  (^walking  away  and  then  returning) 

Forget  what  I  said.  I  did  n't  mean  anything  by  it. 
I  don't  really  believe  you  are  deceiving  me.  You  are 
too  good  —  too  sincere.  You  appreciate,  deep  down 
in  your  heart,  my  affection  for  you.  I  thought  you 
were  waiting  for  me,  and  that  we  would  have  our 
regular  holiday  —  as  we  have  been  wont.  When 
you  said  "  No  "  I  lost  my  temper.     Where  are  you 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  191 

going?  Visiting?  Looking  up  some  woman  friend? 
Is  it  a  pleasure  trip;  or  some  absolute  necessity? 
Call  it  off,  if  jou  have  to.  Write  and  say  your  hus- 
band is  sick  and  you  must  stay  with  him  ;  that 's 
simple  enough.  Do  what  I  ask  you.  Give  me  this 
day.  It  has  been  mine  for  a  long  time  ;  you  've  kept 
it  for  me  till  now. 

CLOTILDE 

I  'd  like  to,  but  I  can't. 

LAFONT 

Why  not? 

CLOTILDE 

They  '11  come  for  me  with  a  carriage  to  take  me  to 
the  Park. 

LAFONT 

You  were  going  out. 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  mistaken.     I  was  waiting. 

LAFONT 

Mrs.  Simpson? 

CLOTILDE 

That's  just  who  .  .  .  I 'm  going  to  dine  with  her. 
(Rising)  What  a  queer  man  you  are!  You  take 
offence  at  everything,  even  things  that  ought  to  cheer 
you  up. 

LAFONT 

Mrs.  Simpson  ! 

CLOTILDE 

Of  course,  I  forgot  that  Mrs.  Simpson  was  not  one  of 
your  friends,  and  that  you  had  forbidden  me  to  go 
to  her  house.  A  delightful  house,  magnificently  fur- 
nished and  perfectly  irreproachable  !     Perhaps  there 


192  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

are  a  few  little  love-affairs  going  on  —  I  would  n't 
deny  it  —  but  that 's  the  same  everywhere. 

LAFONT 

You  know  very  well  that  Mrs.  Simpson  has  a  pretty 
bad  reputation. 

CLOTILDE 

So  much  the  worse  for  those  who  have  been  the  cause 
of  it  !  When  a  man  has  been  intimate  with  a  woman, 
that  woman  ought  to  be  sacred  for  him  —  yes, 
sacred  !  That 's  a  principle  you  should  bear  in  mind  : 
it  may  be  of  service  to  you.  .  .  .  I  'm  getting  fright- 
ened, I  confess.  I  can't  help  wondering  what  we  are 
coming  to  —  what  you  've  still  got  up  your  sleeve. 
To-day  you  have  offered  me  the  worst  insult  a  woman 
can  hear.  What  else?  What  more  are  you  going  to 
do?  The  only  thing  I  can  think  of  is  violence.  I 
hope  you  '11  control  yourself  and  at  least  not  go  that 
far.  Consider  well,  my  friend:  it  would  be  much 
better  that  we  separated  right  now  if  you  think  you 
might  be  carried  that  far.  Come  now,  I  'm  sending 
you  away  in  earnest  this  time.  Your  mind  is  easy 
now,  is  n't  it?  In  spite  of  the  horror  you  have  of 
Mrs.  Simpson,  you  would  rather  have  me  with  her. 
.  .  .  The  first  time  I  see  you,  we  '11  take  up  that  mat- 
ter of  the  six-months'  trip,  and  I  '11  persuade  you  to 
take  it,  I  hope. 

LAFONT    (piteOUslî/) 

To-morrow? 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  to-morrow  !  It 's  different  now,  is  it?  So  you  do 
want  to  see  me  to-morrow?  Well,  all  right.  There  's 
only  one  answer.  But  take  care  what  you  do.  You 
are    calm    and    collected    enough   just    now;     don't 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  193 

change  the  minute  you  get  outside  the  door.  You  're 
on  dangerous  ground,  I  want  to  tell  you.  If  you 
should  bother  me  between  now  and  to-morrow  —  if  I 
just  meet  you  ...  in  the  Park  or  anywhere  else  — 
if  you  just  show  your  nose  anywhere,  you  won't  see 
me  again  as  long  as  you  live. 

LAFONT 

To-morrow,  then.'' 

CLOTILDE 

To-morrow.  {He  goes  out  qmcJclt/)  Well,  there  was 
nothing  else  I  could  say.  He  was  sensible  enough. 
I  like  it  when  he  gets  angry,  but  I  'm  always  afraid 
he  's  going  to  cry.  (Going  to  the  window)  I  'd  bet- 
ter make  sure  before  I  go  downstairs  that  I  have  n't 
got  him  behind  me.  There  he  goes,  dejectedly,  with 
his  head  down.  Poor  fellow  !  Oh,  I  '11  pay  him  a 
little  visit  to-morrow,  of  course.  What 's  the  matter 
with  him  now  ?  He  's  stopped.  He  's  coming  back. 
He  's  coming  right  into  the  house.  Oh,  the  villain  ! 
He  's  going  to  lie  in  wait  for  me  and  wear  me  out. 
I  'm  going  to  let  him  know  I  see  him  ;  it 's  the  only 
way  I  can  get  out  of  here. 

J[Du  Mesnd  enters  at  the  rear  door.  He  wears  the 
air  of  a  man  thoroughly  disappointed  and  discour- 
aged; he  throws  his  hat  on  the  table  and  sits  down 
near  the  table,  after  giving  it  an  angry  shove. 

CLOTILDE  {turning  round  and  perceiving  her  husband) 
Now  it  's  the  other  one  !  {Looking  him  over)  Adolph  ! 
Adolph  !  What  's  the  matter  with  you.?*  {Going  over 
to  him)    Adolph!    Answer  me! 

DU  MESNiL  {bitterly) 
Let  me  alone,  will  you? 


194  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  it 

CLOTILDE 

What 's  the  trouble?  That's  a  pretty  face  to  show 
when  you  get  home  !  I  never  saw  you  look  like  that 
before  ! 

DU    MESNir, 

Don't  make  me  feel  worse.     I  don't  feel  like  laugh- 
ing, or  listening  to  your  chatter. 
CLOTILDE  {uneasily,  with  a  change  of  tone) 
What 's  the  matter.'' 

DU    MESNIL 

You  '11  know  what  it  is  —  you  '11  know  it  all  too  soon. 

CLOTILDE 

So  it  's  something  serious.? 

DU    MESNIL 

Very  serious. 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  angry  .î* 

DU    MESNIL 

I  've  got  reason  to  be. 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  angry  .   .   .  with  me.'* 

DU    MESNIL 

It 's  nothing  to  do  with  you.     If  you  're  going  out, 
go  ahead.     Go  out!    {She  takes  a  few  steps  toward 
the  door)    Where  are  you  going,  anyway  .^^ 
CLOTILDE  {returning) 

To  one  of  the  big  stores. 

DU    MESNIL 

Go  on,  go  to  your  big  store.  Buy  some  of  your  fol- 
derols.     It 's  just  the  time  for  it. 

CLOTILDE 

I  'm  getting  tired  of  this.  I  won't  move  a  step  till 
you  've  explained.    {She  tears  off  her  hat)    I  'm  not 


ACT  n]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  195 

going  out  while  my  husband  is  in  trouble,  and  I  don't 
know  what  the  trouble  is.      (Sitting  down)      If  he 
won't  tell  me  till  he  gets  ready,  I  '11  wait. 
DU  MESNiL  (rising  and  going  over  to  her) 
You  're  mighty  nice. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  speak  out,  then,  you  old  goose. 

DU    MESNII> 

We  're  down  and  out. 

CLOTILDE 

How  so? 

DU    MESNIL 

How?    About  that  collectorship. 
CLOTILDE  (rising) 

Oh,  that  !  What,  you,  a  man  —  you  get  into  such 
a  state  of  mind,  and  upset  me  like  that,  simply  be- 
cause there  has  been  a  hitch  in  a  matter  of  that  kind? 
Why,  there  has  been  a  hitch  —  that 's  all  !  It 's  what 
always  happens  in  such  matters.  One  loses  —  the 
other  wins  :  and  all  you  can  do  is  to  profit  by  your 
gains  and  forget  the  losses.  Did  you  think  I  was 
going  to  complain,  and  have  a  lot  of  reproaches  for 
you?  Never,  my  dear  boy,  never!  Come,  now  — 
brace  up  —  and  don't  look  so  forlorn  !  What  would 
you  do  if  you  had  a  real  run  of  bad  luck?  If  you 
should  lose  me,  for  instance?  .  .  .  And  now  which 
one  of  us  was  right?  That  uncle  of  yours  —  a  fine 
kind  of  protector  you  've  got  there  !  Nothing  about 
you  ever  pleased  him  :  neither  your  way  of  living, 
nor  your  writings,  nor  your  wife.  And  then,  when- 
ever he  mixes  into  anything,  you  can  be  sure  it  will 
be  a  fizzle.     How  did  he  get  into  the  Academy,  any- 


196  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

way?     If  he  were  n't  a  bachelor,  I  might  guess.   .   .  . 
Tell  me  what  happened,     I  don't  know  yet. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  don't  know  either. 

CLOTILDE 

It  's  all  settled,  is  it.? 

DU    MESNIL, 

Almost. 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  is  that  all?     What  do  you  mean  by  "  almost  "? 
Has  the  job  been  given  out  or  not? 

DU    MESNIl. 

Not  yet. 

CLOTILDE 

There  's  nothing  actually  settled  then  ? 

DU    MESNIL 

The   collectorship   is   about  to   be   disposed   of,   and 
I  've  been  given  to  understand  that  it  's  not  for  me. 

CLOTILDE 

All  right.     Now  we  're  getting  to  the  point.     And 
who  has  been  picked  in  your  place? 
DU  MESNIL  {having  thrown  up  his  Jiands) 
A  .  .  .  very  commonplace  fellow  ! 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  doubt  it.    Married? 

DU    MESNIL 

What 's  that  got  to  do  with  it? 

CLOTILDE 

Answer  just  the  same. 

DU    MESNIL 

Yes,  married. 

CLOTILDE 

His  wife  is  young? 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  197 

DU    MESNIL 

About  your  age. 

CLOTILDE 

Pretty? 

DU    MESNIL 

Attractive. 
CLOTILDE  [in  a  lower  tone) 
Giddy? 

DU    MESNIL 

So  they  say, 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  the  hussy  ! 

DU    MESNIL 

I  see  what  you  've  got  in  mind. 

CLOTILDE 

It 's  time  you  did. 

DU    MESNIL 

You  're  mistaken.  Those  things  don't  work  in  the 
Treasury  department. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  to  sum  it  up  :  nobody  has  got  the  place  yet,  and 
you  have  let  yourself  become  discouraged  too  easily 
—  as  your  habit  is. 

DU    MESNIL 

All  right  !    Let  it  go  at  that  !    But  what  is  there  to 
do? 
CLOTILDE  (after  reflection) 

Get  out  of  my  way.  (She  passes  abruptly  in  front  of 
him,  sits  doxrni  at  the  table  and  begins  to  write) 

DU    MESNIL 

Just  tell  me. 

CLOTILDE 

Don't  bother  me. 


198  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

DU    MESNIL 

Let 's  talk  it  over  first. 

CLOTILDE 

No  use.  .  .  .  I  'm  writing  to  Lolotte,  to  ask  her  to 
meet  me  somewhere  ;  she  '11  understand  that  it 's 
about  something  important. 

DU    MESNIL 

Lolotte?    Who  the  devil  is  Lolotte.? 

CLOTILDE 

Lolotte  is  Mrs.  Simpson.  We  call  her  Lolotte  for 
short  ever  since  she  took  that  part  in  a  play.  And 
she  likes  it. 

DU    MESNIL 

All  right.  Write  to  Lolotte.  Say  what  you  please. 
If  Lolotte  succeeds  where  a  member  of  the  Academy 
has  fallen  down,  it  will  suit  me  all  right,  but  I  shall 
feel  sorry  for  France. 

CLOTILDE 

Let  France  alone.  France  does  n't  worry  about  you  ; 
so  don't  you  worry  about  France.  (^Rising)  Have  n't 
you  got  something  to  do.»* 

DU    MESNIL 

I  made  up  my  mind  to  come  home  and  lock  myself 
in  for  a  week. 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  want  you  to.  I  don't  want  you  to  make  your- 
self sick  about  a  thing  that  may  come  out  all  right 
yet.  You  can  take  this  letter  to  Mrs.  Simpson  ; 
that  '11  give  you  an  airing.  From  there  you  can  go 
and  see  your  uncle. 

DU    MESNIL 

Why.?  A  fellow  who  is  good  for  nothing,  as  you  have 
just   said  yourself.      I  'm  going  to   write   him  that 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  199 

I  've  got  enough  of  his  advice,  and  he  can  bestow 
his  influence  somewhere  else. 

CLOTILDE 

Don't  you  do  it.  People  know  that  your  uncle  has 
been  trying  to  work  you  into  this  job;  and  whatever 
we  get,  it  will  be  due  to  his  influence;  see?  You 
don't  want  people  saying  that  you  are  a  protege  of 
Mrs.  Simpson  ;  and  that  we  owe  what  we  get  to  her 
and  her  friends. 

DU    MESNIL 

You  're  dead  right.  I  '11  take  this  letter  and  then 
go  and  see  my  uncle.  But  the  Economist  Club  will 
have  to  get  along  without  me  this  time. 

CLOTILDE 

Not  a  bit  of  it.  Why  should  you  change  your  habits  ? 
You  get  a  lot  of  fun  out  of  those  dinners.  You  get 
home  late,  with  your  chest  puffed  out,  and  with  a 
lot  of  stories  that  give  me  a  pretty  good  idea  of 
what  you  are  talking  about  most  of  the  time.  You 
are  among  a  lot  of  men,  and  you  say  a  lot  of  silly 
things  ;  but  you  're  happy.  Why  deprive  yourself 
of  a  little  pleasure .''  There  is  n't  too  much  of 
it  in  this  world.  You  '11  be  with  the  kind  of  men 
you  like,  and  I  '11  go  to  my  friend,  who  's  distressed 
because  she  has  n't  seen  me. 

DU    MESNIL 

All  right.  Just  as  you  say.  But  I  'm  in  low  spirits 
to-day,  and  I  'd  rather  stay  with  you. 

CLOTILDE 

Thanks.  But  run  along  now,  and  don't  mope. 
You  '11  soon  be  yourself  again. 

DU    MESNIL 

Well,  so  long  ;    I  '11  deliver  that  letter  of  yours. 


200  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

CLOTILDE 

Good!    {He  goes  toward  the  door  downheartedly) 
Throw  jour  shoulders  back,  why  don't  you  ;  and  put 
on  as  happy  a  look  as  you  can.     Don't  let  others  see 
that  you  have  troubles  —  it  does  n't  pay  ! 
ru  MESNiL  {returning) 

What  shall  I  say  to  my  uncle? 

CLOTILDE 

What  you  please. 

DU    MESNIL 

Well,  I  want  it  understood  that  you  're  sending  me  to 
this  dinner.  And  you  're  sending  me  when  I  'm  in 
a  rotten  state  of  mind. 

CLOTILDE 

That  '11  pass  away  .  .  .  when  you  get  your  feet  un- 
der the  table. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  'm  going  to  throw  myself  right  into  the  midst  of  it. 
{He  goes  out) 

CLOTILDE 

Just  like  a  chapter  of  Madame  Bovary!  Talk  about 
a  woman's  cleverness  and  management  !  While  she  's 
in  the  house,  the  house  prospers,  I  warrant  you. 
What  would  my  husband  do  if  he  did  n't  have  me  ? 
Decent  folks  have  a  little  luck,  and  people  are  well 
disposed  toward  them  ;  but  whenever  there  's  some- 
thing to  be  given  out,  how  does  it  go?  Whether  it  's 
a  position,  or  a  prize,  or  a  favor,  big  or  little,  and 
there  are  two  candidates  —  one  a  worthy  man,  not 
very  strong,  but  modest  and  deserving  —  and  the 
other  some  humbug  who  has  nothing  but  his  wits  ; 
it 's  the  humbug  that  gets  the  prize  every  time,  and 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  201 

the  good  man  that  gets  it  in  the  neck  !  Perhaps  I  '11 
be  able  to  leave  the  house  some  time  to-day  !  I  hope 
Mr.  Lafont  has  got  tired  of  hanging  around.  He 
can't  kick  this  time,  if  I  get  the  start  of  him.  I  'm 
off!  (She  goes  rapidly  toward  the  door;  the  door 
opens  slowly  and  furtively;  Lafont  hesitatingly  shows 
himself)    Oh,  this  is  too  much! 

l^Clotilde  returns  to  tlie  front  of  the  stage  in  a  hurry; 
furious  with  silent  anger;  like  a  woman  resolved  not 
to  say  a  single  word. 

LAFONT 

You  're  angry  because  I  'm  back  again?  .  .  .  Here  's 
just  how  it  happened.  I  was  going  away  —  honestly, 
I  was.  I  was  n't  going  to  think  of  you  any  more  till 
to-morrow.  Well,  I  saw  your  husband  coming  home  ; 
what  could  I  do. '^  ...  I  would  have  been  glad  to 
shake  hands  with  him,  but  I  thought  perhaps  you 
did  n't  want  him  to  know  I  had  been  here,  so  it  was 
better  for  me  not  to  let  him  see  me.  .  .  .  You  always 
tell  me  I  don't  know  what  I  'm  about  when  I  'm 
spending  my  time  with  Adolph  for  the  sake  of  ap- 
pearances. ...  So  I  came  back  in  a  hurry  when 
your  husband  was  n't  looking  and  dodged  under  a 
shelter  to  let  him  go  by.  .  .  .  He  did  come  in,  did  n't 
he.''  You  must  have  seen  him?  I  have  n't  been  see- 
ing a  ghost,  have  I?  .  .  .  After  that  I  showed  some 
weakness,  I  admit.  I  could  n't  stay  there.  I  said 
to  myself:  Clotilde  has  been  waiting  quite  awhile 
for  Mrs.  Simpson,  and  it  does  n't  look  very  much 
as  though  anybody  were  coming;  so  her  plans  must 
have  fallen  through,  and  perhaps  she  '11  be  glad  to 
see  me.  Surely  you  are  not  going  to  find  fault  with 
me  on  account  of  an  idea  that  was  both  tender  and 


202  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS         [act  ii 

unassuming?  .  .  .  Well,  your  husband  went  out;  but 
that  made  no  difference,  because  he  did  n't  count,  any- 
way. Then  I  looked  again  to  see  whether  Mrs.  Simp- 
son's carriage  was  coming.  I  did  n't  see  it,  so  I 
came  upstairs.  Oh,  really,  I  came  up  the  stairs 
trembling,  and  perhaps  I  'd  have  gone  down  again 
(^laughing)  if  it  had  n't  been  for  one  of  those  lucky 
shots  —  aren't  they  funny,  though .?  —  your  hus- 
band left  the  door  open.  Come  now,  Clotilde,  it 's 
all  simple  and  natural  enough  ;  don't  be  angry  about 
a  little  thing  like  that  .  .  .  say  something.  Don't 
you  want  to.^*  Not  a  single  word?  Just  one.  .  .  . 
(Going  away)  All  right;  I  '11  go.  You  certainly  do 
want  this  day  to  yourself.  Till  to-morrow  then. 
(Returning)  To-morrow?  (Growing  impatient)  Say 
something!  Don't  you  want  to  speak  to  me?  (Going 
away)  I  'm  hurt,  I  really  am.  You  've  been  treat- 
ing me  altogether  too  flippantly  lately.  You  don't 
give  any  thought  to  what  has  passed  between  us. 
(Returning)  You  've  made  up  your  mind  not  to 
speak  to  me,  have  you?  (Going  away)  Well,  just  as 
you  say  ;  we  '11  make  an  end  of  it.  You  don't  love 
me  any  longer.  I  'm  in  your  way.  The  pleasure  I 
get  out  of  your  company  is  not  so  great  that  I 
couldn't  enjoy  myself  just  as  much  somewhere  else. 
Let's  part!  (Returning  to  her  and  holding  out  his 
hand)  Let 's  part  like  good  sports  !  ...  Do  you 
want  me  to  tell  you  something?  You  were  not 
expecting  anybody.  You  were  going  to  visit  your 
lover  ;  you  were  going  to  dinner  with  him  ;  can  you 
deny  it?  ...  I  know  who  he  is;  I  didn't  want  to 
mention  his  name  before.  His  name  —  is  —  Ernest 
Mercier. 


ACT  II]         THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  203 

CLOTILDE 

Alfred  Mercier. 

LAFONT 

Alfred? 

CLOTILDE 

Alfred  Mercier. 

LAFONT 

Number  28  Madeleine  Street. 

CLOTILDE 

Number  28  Madeleine  Avenue. 
LAFONT  (perplexed) 

Clotilde!  Is  this  a  joke,  or  are  you  telling  me  the 
truth?  ...  It 's  the  truth,  is  it?  .  .  .  (Weeping) 
Oh,  Clotilde!  Clotilde!  What  have  you  done?  You 
ought  to  have  deceived  me  delicately  ;  without  telling 
me,  or  letting  me  find  it  out.  This  is  the  end  !  This 
time,  it's  the  end!  Good-bye.  {Stopping)  Is  it 
good-bye?  .  .  .  Good-bye!    (He  goes  out) 

CLOTILDE 

Well  ;  that 's  over  with  !  I  would  have  liked  to  be 
more  obliging,  and  make  some  sort  of  explanation. 
But  day  after  day  —  and  twice  a  day  !  No,  sir  !  A 
fine  time  a  woman  would  have,  with  such  explosions 
as  those  !  She  would  n't  have  time  to  breathe  !  To 
say  nothing  about  always  being  within  a  hair's 
breadth  of  a  catastrophe  !  Really,  I  can  never  be 
at  peace  except  when  my  husband  is  at  home. 

CURTAIN 


THE    THIRD    ACT 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  in  the  first  and  second  acts. 

The  double  door  at  the  right  is  wide  open;  the  table 
has  been  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  room  for  serving 
coffee. 

CLOTiLDE  {near  the  table) 

Mr.  Simpson  .   .  . 
SIMPSON  (seated  and  just  finishing  a  cup  of  coffee) 

Yes,  ma'am? 

CLOTILDE 

You  '11  do  just  as  you  would  at  your  mother's  house, 
won't  you?    Help  yourself. 

SIMPSON 

Yes,  ma'am. 
CLOTILDE  (giving  a  cup  to  Adèle) 

Give  this  cup  to  the  gentleman,  and  then  you  may  go. 

ADÈLE 

You  don't  need  me  any  longer,  ma'am.? 

CLOTILDE 

No. 

ADÈLE 

I  told  you  before,  ma'am,  that  my  brother  ,  .  , 

CLOTILDE 

Run  along,  now  ;  you  can  talk  to  me  about  that  later. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  205 

ADÈLE  {sourly) 

Very  well,  ma'am.  (She  goes  out  at  the  right,  carry- 
ing the  cup) 

CLOTiLDE  (drawing  slowly  near  to  Simpson,  and  speak- 
ing in  a  low  tone)  So  it 's  really  true  you  are  going 
to  leave  Paris? 

SIMPSON 

It 's  really  true. 

CLOTILDE 

This  very  day? 

SIMPSON 

I  take  the  seven  o'clock  train,  which  will  bring  me 
home  at  midnight. 

CLOTILDE 

Your  trunks  are  packed? 

SIMPSON 

My  servant  is  finishing  them  right  now. 

CLOTILDE 

Is  there  nothing  I  can  do  for  you? 

SIMPSON 

There  's  really  so  little  time  left  ;  and  I  'm  afraid 
of  bothering  you. 

CLOTILDE 

Just  as  you  say.  (She  leaves  him;  he  rises  and  puts 
his  cup  on  the  table)  What  does  your  mother  think 
of  this  sudden  determination? 

SIMPSON 

My  mother  is  delighted  to  see  me  go.  It 's  partly 
for  her  sake  that  I  'm  going  sooner  than  usual.  She 
wanted  me  to  inspect  the  place  from  cellar  to  roof- 
tree  and  look  after  the  necessary  repairs.  I  want  to 
make  it  impossible  for  my  mother  to  recognize 
Croquignole  when  she  goes  back  there  to  live. 


206  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  hi 

CLOTILDE 

If  your  mother  agrees  to  your  going,  I  've  nothing 
more  to  say. 

SIMPSON 

You  're  too  fond  of  Paris.  You  don't  admit  that 
anyone  may  find  it  irksome,  or  prefer  to  live  any- 
where else. 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  not  what  I  think.  I  only  think  that  a  man 
of  your  age  and  situated  as  you  are  would  not  be 
likely  to  leave  Paris  voluntarily,  especially  if  there 
were  some  little  affair  of  the  heart  to  hold  him.  The 
winter  is  scarcely  over.  The  weather  is  frightful. 
Nobody  thinks  of  leaving  except  you.  There  must 
be  a  reason. 

SIMPSON 

There  would  rather  be  a  reason  for  my  staying. 

CLOTILDE 

Then  why  are  you  going  away.'' 

SIMPSON 

I  'm  being  bored.  I  feel  annoyed  and  humiliated. 
I  cut  a  sorry  figure  in  this  Paris  of  yours.  How 
about  that  dingy  ground-floor  apartment  where  I 
live.''  I'm  ashamed  to  live  in  it;  and  still  more 
ashamed  when  anyone  pays  me  a  visit  there.  My 
mother  still  refuses  to  set  me  up  in  the  style  I  desire. 
She  prefers  me  to  travel.  I  spend  a  lot  of  money, 
without  getting  either  pleasure  or  glory  out  of  it. 
It 's  different  over  there  in  Croquignole.  There  I 
can  make  a  showing.  I  amount  to  something  when 
I  'm  in  the  country  ;  they  bow  to  me  when  I  pass  by. 
I  have  everything  I  don't  have  here  :  horses  —  dogs 
—  guns.     You  know  I  have  a  splendid  collection  of 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  207 

guns  ;  and  I  'm  worried  about  not  finding  them  in 
good  condition  when  I  get  back.  Paris  is  certainly  a 
nice  place  ;  I  'd  have  as  good  a  time  here  as  any- 
body if  the  conditions  were  such  as  to  satisfy  my 
pride. 

CLOTILDE 

It 's  my  fault.  I  ought  to  have  been  more  to  you 
and  looked  out  for  you  better.  To  think  of  sepa- 
rating as  we  are  doing,  light-heartedly,  after  only 
four  months  !  I  hope  the  time  has  n't  seemed  long 
to  you. 

SIMPSON 

Five  months. 

CLOTILDE 

Do  you  think  so.'' 

SIMPSON 

Count  them:  15th  of  January,  15th  of  February, 
15th  of  March.  .  .  . 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  right.     Call  it  five  months  and  let  it  go  at 
that.    (A  pause) 
SIMPSON  (coming  near  her) 

This  year  you  ought  to  come  to  Croquignole  when 
my  mother  is  there  with  a  number  of  her  society 
people. 

CLOTILDE 

Don't  expect  me.  My  husband  can't  get  away  so 
easily. 

SIMPSON 

Let  him  stay  here. 

CLOTILDE 

He  does  n't  like  that. 


208  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [aJT  hi 

SIMPSON 

You  'd  find  your  friend  Mrs.  Beaulieu  there  ;  she 
does  n't  let  a  little  thing  like  that  stop  her  from 
going. 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  Pauline  !  That 's  different.  In  the  first  place 
she  has  money  of  her  own,  and  can  do  as  she  pleases. 
And  then,  her  husband  behaved  badly  to  her,  and  she 
takes  advantage  of  that  fact  —  and  she  is  right,  too. 

STMPSON 

Mrs.  Beaulieu  has  a  pretty  good  time,  doesn't  she.? 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  know  anything  about  that.  I  'm  very  close 
to  Pauline,  very  ;  but  we  don't  tell  each  other  every- 
thing. 

SIMPSON 

She  's  the  one,  though,  that  introduced  you  to  my 
mother. 

CLOTILDE 

Pauline  never  knew  why  I  wanted  her  to.  What 
makes  you  think  Mrs.  Beaulieu  does  n't  act  just  as 
she  should.''  Has  anybody  been  talking  to  you  about 
her.? 

SIMPSON 

I  know  of  one  wild  infatuation,  with  one  of  my 
friends. 

CLOTILDE 

What 's  his  name? 

SIMPSON 

Hector  de  Godefroy. 

CLOTILDE 

That  is  n't  true. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  209 

SIMPSON 

It 's  scarcely  a  secret. 

CLOTILDE 

Mrs.  Beaulieu,  as  you  ought  to  know,  is  in  love  with 
a  fine  young  fellow  who  is  crazy  about  her  and  is 
always  with  her. 

SIMPSON 

Who  is  that? 
CLOTiLDE  (hesitating,  and  with  a  smile) 
Alfred  Mercier. 

SIMPSON 

Yes  ;  but  Mrs.  Beaulieu  is  head  over  heels  in  love 
with  my  friend  Hector  —  I  don't  know  why.  She 
does  n't  let  a  day  pass  without  seeing  him. 

CLOTILDE 

Where  did  you  hear  this.'' 

SIMPSON 

From  Mrs.  Beaulieu  herself.  She  never  hesitates  to 
tell  things  like  that. 

CLOTILDE 

What  a  child  Pauline  is  !     She  can't  keep  anything 
to  herself. 
SIMPSON  (walking  away) 

That 's  another  thing  I  like  about  getting  away  from 
Paris.     It  rids  one  of  a  lot  of  rather  shady  stories. 

CLOTILDE 

You  include  my  friend  when  you  say  that? 

SIMPSON 

I  think  it  applies  to  her. 

CLOTILDE 

Pauline  has  had  a  good  deal  of  trouble;  remember 
that. 


210  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  hi 

SIMPSON 

She  does  n't  seem  to  have  any  nowadays. 

CLOTILDE 

Perhaps  you  've  been  paying  court  there  yourself. 

SIMPSON 

Never  had  the  least  idea  of  it. 

CLOTILDE 

Mrs.  Beaulieu  is  a  perfect  dear,  though. 

SIMPSON 

I  don't  like  to  be  mixed  up  with  a  crowd. 

CLOTILDE 

But  you  must  expect  to  be,  sometimes. 

SIMPSON 

The  ladies  would  n't  like  to  hear  you  say  that. 

CLOTILDE 

And  what  does  it  prove?  That  we  are  weak,  fickle, 
culpable,  if  you  please;  that  we  are  forever  getting 
involved  in  love-affairs  ;  that  we  meet  a  lot  of  boors 
wlio  don't  love  as  we  want  to  be  loved  ;  or,  worse 
still,  thankless  men  who  respect  and  love  nobody  but 
themselves  !  However,  you  're  right,  after  all.  The 
wisest  plan  for  us  is  to  look  at  all  men  alike  ;  to  close 
our  eyes  tight  ;  to  stop  up  our  ears,  *and  say  to 
ourselves  bravely,  "  Your  place  is  there  ;  stay  there." 
Perhaps  life  would  n't  be  so  interesting  or  thrilling, 
but  we  should  avoid  turmoil,  and  disillusionments, 
and  regrets. 

SIMPSON 

Why,  what 's  the  matter.'' 

CLOTILDE 

Let  me  alone. 

SIMPSON 

Tears? 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  211 

CLOTILDE 

Yes  ;   and  honest  ones,  too. 

SIMPSON 

Why  are  you  crying,  dear? 

CLOTILDE 

How  can  I  tell?  There  's  a  little  of  everything  in  a 
woman's  tears. 

SIMPSON 

I  'm  awfully  sorry  my  going  away  .  ,  . 

CLOTILDE 

No.  Don't  make  yourself  out  more  responsible  than 
you  are.  It 's  the  old  story  :  people  come  together, 
like  each  other,  and  then  part.  But  you  men  are 
very  free  and  easy  before  you  get  into  our  good 
graces,  and  mighty  Puritanical  afterwards.  Come! 
I  must  call  my  husband  now.  He  'd  let  us  alone 
till  to-morrow  ;  he  has  such  perfect  faith  and  sublime 
ignorance  of  the  way  we  carry  on.  It  was  you  that 
got  us  what  we  wanted  ;  but  you  did  it  after  you  and 
I  had  already  loved  each  other  ;  it  was  n't  necessary. 
Some  day,  when  you  are  coming  this  way  again,  if 
you  feel  like  shaking  hands,  don't  forget  the  house 
where  there  are  so  many  reasons  for  your  being 
welcome. 

SIMPSON 

You  're  charming  ! 

CLOTILDE 

I  know  it.  (She  leaves  him  and  goes  to  the  door  at 
the  .right)  Come,  Adolph,  you  've  smoked  enougli. 
You  can  finish  the  newspaper  another  time.  Adolph, 
do  you  hear  me?  Mr.  Simpson  is  ready  to  leave;  get 
up  immediately,  if  you  're  going  with  him!  (Return- 
ing)   He  's  coming. 


212  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  m 

DU  MESNiL,  (entering  and  approaching  Simpson) 

I  fear  you  '11  think  me  rude  in  deserting  you  like  this. 

SIMPSON 

That 's  all  right. 

DU    MESNIL 

It 's  a  habit  of  mine  to  take  a  few  minutes'  rest  after 
luncheon  ;   it 's  the  only  time  I  feel  really  at  home. 

SIMPSON 

Are  you  ready? 

DU    MESNIL 

Whenever  you  are. 

SIMPSON 

Let 's  be  going,  then. 

DU    MESNIL 

Just  let  me  say  a  word  to  my  wife,  will  you.»* 

SIMPSON 

Certainly. 
DU  MESNIL  (going  over  to  Clotilde  and  speaking  in  a 
low  tone)    Ought  I  to  thank  this  young  man? 

CLOTILDE 

No  ;   we  invited  him  to  luncheon  ;    that 's  enough. 

DU    MESNIL 

We  're  under  great  obligations  to  that  friend  of  his 
that 's  a  friend  of  the  Minister. 

CLOTILDE 

It  was  his  mother  who  did  everything  .  .  .  you  re- 
member when  I  wrote  that  letter  to  her  —  you  were 
here  ? 

DU    MESNIL 

I  did  n't  know  Mrs.  Simpson  had  a  son  as  old  as 
that.    What  do  you  think  of  him? 

CLOTILDE 

A  gentleman. 


ACT  in]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  213 

DU    MESNIL 

Rather  stuck-up,  is  n't  he? 

CLOTILDE 

That  does  n't  offend  me  at  all. 

DU    MESNIL 

What  did  he  have  to  say  to  you? 

CLOTILDE 

That  I  was  perfect. 

DU    MESNIL 

Mentally. 

CLOTILDE 

Physically,  too. 

DU    MESNIL 

I  'm  a  pretty  good  sport  to  let  you  two  be  together. 

CLOTILDE 

He  's  leaving  to-night. 

DU    MESNIL 

He  might  come  back,  though. 
CLOTILDE  {in  her  husband's  ear) 

It  would  take  more  than  him  to  make  me  forget  my 

duty. 
SIMPSON  (going  over  to  Clotilde) 

You  '11  excuse  me,  Mrs.  Du  Mesnil,  for  leaving  so 

soon. 

CLOTILDE 

I  know  your  time  is  valuable;    you  told  me  so,  and 
I  don't  dare  detain  you. 

SIMPSON 

I  'm  already  longing  for  Paris  —  before  I  leave. 

CLOTILDE 

You  can  forget  it  easily  enough. 


214,  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  m 

SIMPSON 

My  mother  will  see  you  very  soon,  of  course,  and  she 
will  give  me  the  news  of  you. 

CLOTILDE 

We  shall  want  to  hear  about  you,  too. 

SIMPSON 

Remember,  you  're  expected  at  Croquignole. 

CLOTILDE 

It  is  n't  likely  you  '11  see  me  there. 

SIMPSON 

I  have  n't  given  up  hope  yet.  If  there  should  be  any 
occasion  for  me  to  come  to  Paris  —  and  I  '11  see  that 
there  is  —  I  'm  going  to  try  once  more  to  persuade 
you. 

CLOTILDE 

Don't  come  to  invite  me  —  come  to  see  me. 

SIMPSON 

So  long,  then. 

CLOTILDE 

So  long. 
[^Simpson  leaves.     ' 

DU    MESNIL 

What  was  it  I  was  saying?  ' 

CLOTILDE 

What  was  it  I  replied?  Never  mind,  run  along  about 
your  business.  (Du  Mesnil  goes  out)  What  a  stupid 
adventure  !  The  young  men  nowadays  are  n't  worth 
the  trouble  they  give  you.  They  're  unfeeling,  full  of 
affectations  ;  they  don't  believe  in  anything  ;  they 
like  to  pose,  and  that 's  all.  I  did  think  that  Mr. 
Simpson,  brought  up  by  such  a  mother,  would  form 
a  real  attachment  for  a  woman  !  However,  I  have  n't 
any  real  complaint  against  him.     He  always   acted 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  215 

like  a  perfect  gentleman  and  was  very  obliging.  .  .  . 
He  made  me  a  bit  tired  with  his  talk  about  his  guns. 
...  It  serves  me  right.  I  already  had  all  I  needed 
—  a  good  friend,  a  second  husband,  so  to  speak.  I 
abused  him  in  every  way  I  could  think  of.  He  got 
enough  of  it  at  last,  that's  plain.  Who  knows? 
Perhaps  he  thought  I  was  angrier  than  I  really  was. 
Men  know  women  so  little.  It  's  true  we  are  very 
weak  toward  those  we  love,  but  in  the  end  we  always 
get  back  to  those  who  love  us.  {The  bell  rings) 
ADÈLE  (entering) 
Mr.  Lafont,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

Well?     Why  do  you  seem  so  astonished  when  you 
announce  Mr.  Lafont? 

ADÈLE 

Are  you  going  to  receive  him,  ma'am? 

CLOTILDE 

Of  course. 

ADÈLE 

Very  well,  ma'am. 

CLOTILDE 

You  can  run  along,  now,  Adèle,  if  you  must  go  out. 

ADÈLE 

Thank  you,  ma'am.    (She  shows  Lafont  in) 
LAFONT  (slowly.  With  emotion) 

How  do  you  do. 
CLOTILDE  (with  well-calculated  voice) 

How  do  you  do,  my  friend. 

LAFONT 

Do  you  feel  well? 

CLOTILDE 

Nicely,  very  nicely.    And  you  ? 


216  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  hi 

LAFONT 

Badly.     Miserably.    Do  I  bother  you? 

CLOTILDE 

Not  in  the  least. 

LAFONT 

Perhaps  you  were  going  out? 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  no  indeed.  I  hardly  ever  go  out  nowadays. 
Where  should  I  go? 

LAFONT 

Did  you  have  company  at  luncheon? 

CLOTILDE 

You  'd  hardly  say  that  ;  just  one. 

LAFONT 

A  friend? 

CLOTILDE 

An  acquaintance. 

LAFONT 

Might  I  know  his  name? 
CLOTILDE  (as  though  tri/ing  to  recollect  it) 

My  husband  told  me,  but  I  don't  seem  to  recall. 

LAFONT 

I  saw  them  go  out  together. 

CLOTILDE 

Indeed?  So  you  were  down  below,  with  your  eyes 
open?  If  I  had  known  that,  I  would  have  shown 
myself  for  a  moment.  It  was  very  nice  of  you.  You 
did  n't  forget  me  right  away,  after  all. 

LAFONT 

Who  was  that  man  ? 

CLOTILDE 

An  acquaintance,  I  told  you.  A  mere  acquaintance. 
He  is  n't  dangerous  to  you.    My  husband  introduced 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  217 

him  to  me  this  morning  and  he  's  going  away  to- 
night. 

LAFONT 

Are  you  telling  me  the  truth? 

CLOTILDE 

Why  should  I  lie  to  you  now  ?  You  have  n't  changed 
•  much,  I  must  say  !  Come,  sit  down  in  the  armchair 
and  stay  there,  if  you  can.  I  don't  want  to  see  you 
pacing  back  and  forth  and  getting  in  a  state  of 
mind  as  you  did  before.  I  have  better  memories  of 
you  than  that. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde! 

CLOTILDE 

There  's  no  more  Clotilde  for  you. 

LAFONT 

Dearie  ! 

CLOTILDE 

A  little  calmer,  please  —  then  we  won't  make  so  many 
mistakes. 

LAFONT 

Honestly,  I  've  been  very  sorry  about  that  silly 
quarrel.  But  you  could  have  put  an  end  to  it  so 
quickly,  if  you  had  wanted  to  !  Look  at  me  !  Alfred 
Mercier!  (She  laughs)  Well,  what  do  you  expect? 
I  had  been  jealous  of  this  man  Mercier  for  a  long 
time.  All  my  suspicions  were  fastened  on  him.  Mrs. 
Beaulieu  ought  to  appreciate  your  discretion. 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  all  right.  What  have  you  been  doing  since 
I  saw  you  last? 

LAFONT 

Thinking  of  you. 


218  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  m 

CLOTILDE 

That  goes  without  saying.    What  else? 

LAFGNT 

What  else?     Just  the  same  as  usual. 

CLOTILDE 

You  did  n't  go  away  ? 

LAFONT 

That  would  have  forced  me  to  move,  and  I  did  n't 
have  the  heart. 

CLOTILDE 

Have  the  ladies  been  kind  to  you?  Have  you  been 
well  taken  care  of? 

LAFONT 

I  won't  answer  such  a  question. 

CLOTILDE 

Why  not?  In  the  old  days  I  might  possibly  have 
taken  your  infidelity  to  heart  —  very  much  to  heart. 
But  what  was  forbidden  you  then,  you  are  wholly 
free  to  do  now.  After  all,  I  don't  really  know  you 
—  whether  you  are  the  kind  of  a  man  to  deprive 
yourself  of  consolations.  You  're  not  always  very 
nice,  nor  jolly,  and  you're  suspicious,  too  —  but  — 

LAFONT 

But  — 

CLOTILDE 

We  won't  talk  about  those  things. 

LAFONT 

I  was  wounded  too  deeply,  really,  to  dream  of 
consolations.  Besides,  if  my  misfortune  should  have 
caused  me  to  lose  you  forever,  I  should  never  try  to 
find  a  substitute  in  those  circles  I  have  ceased  to 
frequent. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  219 

CLOTILDE 

You  're  wrong.  You  ought  to  go  back  to  those 
women.  They  're  free  to  do  as  they  please.  They 
like  trumped-up  yarns,  and  squabbles  and  scraps. 
You  '11  never  get  those  things  with  me.  All  I  have 
to  offer  is  a  peaceful,  sincere  love  —  without  expect- 
ing anything  for  it. 

LAFONT 

That 's  what  I  want.     That 's  what  we  all  want. 

CLOTILDE 

Then  you  must  be  careful,  and  not  risk  all  you  have 
for  the  pleasure  of  flying  into  a  passion. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde  ! 

CLOTILDE 

What  is  it.? 

LAFONT 

Give  me  your  hand. 

CLOTILDE 

No. 

LAFONT 

Surely  you  can  give  me  your  hand. 

CLOTILDE 

We  '11  see,  later  on.  Now  don't  look  that  way,  or 
I  '11  send  you  away  this  minute. 

LAFONT 

Give  me  your  hand. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  there  it  is.  Now  I  suppose  you  '11  have  to  have 
the  other  one. 

liAFONT 

You  're  awfully  cold  toward  me. 


220  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  m 

CLOTILDE 

What,  cold?  I  let  you  sit  near  me,  and  permit  you  to 
hold  my  hands  —  did  you  think  I  was  going  to  throw 
my  arms  around  your  neck  the  minute  you  came  in? 

LAFONT 

Here  I  am,  a  culprit.  Heap  the  reproaches  on  my 
head,  I  '11  take  them.  But  I  think  you  deserve 
some,  too. 

CLOTILDE 

No,  sir. 

LAFONT 

Was  it  my  fault  or  yours  that  our  relations  changed 
so  suddenly?  There  was  n't  a  happier  man  than  I 
until  you  began  to  turn  your  whole  existence  upside 
down. 

CLOTILDE 

What 's  that?  I  began  to  turn  it?  No,  that 's  what 
you  would  have  done,  if  I  had  n't  stopped  you  in 
time. 

LAFONT 

You  're  right.  I  don't  know  why  I  came  back  to 
that.     Let  bygones  be  bygones. 

CLOTILDE 

What  bygones  ?  You  're  simply  incorrigible.  I  let 
you  call,  and  listen  to  you,  and  begin  to  believe  sin- 
cerely that  you  're  sorry  for  your  strange  conduct. 
And  then  I  tell  myself  that  if  you  were  really  to  re- 
form, it  is  barely  possible  that  I  might  forgive  you 
—  and  then  you  make  me  angry  again  with  that 
contrariness  of  yours.  I  detest  that  spirit  in  you. 
I  've  never  succeeded  in  conquering  it.  There  are 
no  bygones,  understand?     Not   a  thing  —  nothing. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  221 

nothing,  nothing  —  absolutely  nothing!     Get  away 
from  me  ! 

LAFONT 

Why? 

CLOTILDE 

Get  away.     I  want  to  get  up. 

LAFONT 

No. 

CLOTILDE 

Yes. 

LAFONT 

Let 's  stay  as  we  are. 

CLOTILDE 

Let    me    get    up    a    minute.  .  .  .  You    need  n't    go 
yet.  .  .  . 

LAFONT 

No,  let 's  stay  as  we  are. 

CLOTILDE 

What  insistence  ! 

LAFONT 

You  're  not  in  pain? 

CLOTILDE 

I  'm  nervous  and  excited. 

LAFONT 

All  the  more  reason  .  .  , 

CLOTILDE 

What's  that? 

LAFONT 

I  'm  hardly  able  to  control  myself,  either. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  don't  trouble  yourself  ;    I  '11  stay  here. 

LAFONT 

So  you  were  thinking  a  little  bit  about  forgiving  me? 


222  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  hi 

CLOTILDE 

That 's  what  I  said.    But  I  was  wrong. 

liAFONT 

Let  's  take  up  our  old  relations  where  we  left  off. 

CLOTILDE 

What's  the  use.''  You'll  never  be  happy  with  me, 
nor  I  with  you.  You  don't  want  to  take  the  trouble 
to  understand  my  position. 

LAFONT 

What  position.? 

CLOTILDE 

My  position.  Am  I  not  married.''  Am  I  not  entirely 
dependent  on  my  husband,  who  has  the  right  to  find 
me  here  whenever  he  wants  me .''  You  '11  admit  that 's 
the  least  he  can  ask.  Then  there  's  another  grave 
fault  ;    and  you  'd  avoid  it,  if  you  knew  me  better. 

LAFONT 

What 's  this  new  reproach  .'* 

CLOTILDE 

You  don't  like  my  husband. 

LAFONT 

Yes,  I  do,  really. 

CLOTILDE 

No,  you  don't,  really.  You  don't  like  Adolph.  You 
show  it  in  a  number  of  ways.  Perhaps  it 's  because 
your  characters  are  not  suited  ;  or  maybe  it 's  my 
position  that  causes  it. 

LAFONT 

How  unjust!  Your  husband.?  He  never  had  but 
two  real  friends  in  this  world. 

CLOTILDE 

Two.? 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  223 

LAFONT 

Yes  ;   two. 

CLOTILDE 

What  two? 

LAFONT 

You  and  I.  {They  laugh)  But  let's  leave  others 
aside  and  talk  about  ourselves.  Come  now,  Clotilde, 
be  honest:    is  it  a  fact  that  I  like  you? 

CLOTILDE 

Why,  yes.     I  think  I  suit  your  taste  pretty  well. 

LAFONT 

You  don't  run  across  a  love  like  mine  every  day  — 
you  realize  that,  don't  you? 

CLOTILDE 

Certainly.  It  's  just  because  I  realize  it  and  feel  it 
deeply  that  I  've  put  up  with  all  your  brain-storms. 

LAFONT 

I  'm  usually  very  affectionate,  very  loving.   .  .   . 

CLOTILDE 

I  don't  deny  it.  You  know  perfectly  how  to  be  nice 
when  you  want  to  be,  and  you  say  a  lot  of  things 
that  are  very  pleasant  to  hear.  .  .  .  You  don't  talk 
about  guns. 

LAFONT 

What  do  you  mean  by  that? 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  nothing.     A  silly  story  I  heard.     Never  mind  ! 
LAFONT  {coming  near  her  again) 

Tell  me  you  forgive  me. 
CLOTILDE  {in  a  low  voice) 

Yes  .  .   .  now  be  sensible,  won't  you? 

LAFONT 

You  forgive  me  .  .  .  everything? 


224  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  m 

CLOTILDE 

Everything.  .  .  .  Don't  plague  me  again,  and  I  '11 
come  to  see  jou. 

LAFONT 

Very  soon? 

CLOTILDE 

Whenever  you  like.  ...  Be  careful  ;  I  'm  not  alone 
in  the  house. 

LAFONT 

Clotilde  ! 

CLOTILDE 

Do  you  love  me? 

LAFONT 

I  worship  you. 
CLOTILDE  {rising) 

Here  we  've  said  a  lot  of  useless  words,  all  to  get 

back  to  the  same  point. 
LAFONT  (going  toward  her) 

Do  you  regret  it? 

CLOTILDE 

Not  now. 

LAFONT 

I  was  very  miserable  when  I  came  here.  I  'm  leaving 
in  the  highest  spirits. 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  I  hope  you  '11  profit  by  this  experience.  No 
more  scenes,  understand?  No  more  of  those  awful 
suspicions.  Women  don't  like  them,  and  they  're 
useless.  When  things  are  going  badly,  or  you  feel 
out  of  sorts  about  something,  tell  me.  I  'm  always 
ready  to  listen  to  reason.  Now  listen.  I  'm  going 
to  tell  you  a  piece  of  news  you  '11  like. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  225 

LAFONT 

I  'm  all  ear. 

CLOTILDE 

I  believe  my  intimacy  with  Mrs.  Simpson  is  over  with. 

XAFONT 

You  don't  say! 

CLOTILDE 

Yes. 

LAFONT 

Have  you  had  a  quarrel  with  her.'' 

CLOTILDE 

No.  On  the  contrary,  I  've  nothing  but  praise  for 
her.  It  is  n't  exactly  Mrs.  Simpson  I  don't  want  to 
see  any  more;  I  just  think  it  's  better  not  to  go  to 
her  house. 

LAFONT 

What  did  I  tell  you  a  short  time  ago  ! 

CLOTILDE 

Well,  you  've  got  more  shrewdness  than  I,  that 's  all. 

LAFONT 

I  know  someone  else  you  ought  not  to  go  with. 
You  'd  do  well  to  cut  her  out,  too. 

CLOTILDE 

Now  you  're  going  to  say  something  foolish  ;  I  can 
see  it  coming.     This  someone  else  is  .  .  . 

LAFONT 

Mrs.  Beaulieu. 

CLOTILDE 

What,  break  with  Pauline  ?  I  'd  like  to  know  why. 
Why.? 

LAFONT 

It  seems  to  me  .  .  . 


226  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  m 

CLOTILDE 

What  seems  to  you? 

LAFONT 

Mr.  Mercier! 

CLOTILDE 

Well?    Mr.  Mercier? 

LAFONT 

I  've  found  out  what  he  is  to  her.  And  you  know 
well  enough,  too. 

CLOTILDE 

Yes,  I  do  know.    What  of  it? 

LAFONT 

I  don't  suppose  you  'd  defend  her  conduct,  would 
you? 

CLOTILDE 

Oh,  come  now  !  Just  stop  to  think  what  you  're  say- 
ing. Are  you  going  to  blame  Pauline  for  being  to 
Mr.  Mercier  what  I  am  to  you? 

LAFONT 

That 's  altogether  different. 

CLOTILDE 

Are  you  so  sure?    What 's  the  difference? 

LAFONT 

I  see  one. 

CLOTILDE 

What  one?  Come,  speak  up.  What  do  you  see? 
.  .  .  You  men  are  all  alike.  Where  you  're  con- 
cerned, anything  goes  ;  but  you  hold  up  your  hands 
in  horror  when  others  do  the  same.  Rather  than 
bother  your  head  about  Pauline,  you  'd  better  be 
thinking  about  my  husband.  He  's  been  complaining 
every  day  that  he  does  n't  see  you  any  more.  He 
wants  to  know  the  reason. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  227 

LAFONT  (pointing  at  the  second  rear  door) 
Was  that  Adolph  that  we  just  heard  come  in? 

CLOTILDE 

Yes,  that  was  Adolph.  Have  you  thought  of  what 
you  're  going  to  say  to  him? 

LAFONT 

No. 

CLOTILDE 

No?    And  that  makes  you  laugh.    All  right  for  you, 

my  friend.    Get  out  of  it  as  best  you  can. 
DU  MESNiL  (entering) 

WeU,  lo  and  behold  ! 
LAFONT  (embarrassed) 

How  are  you,  old  chap? 

DU    MESNIL 

And  how  are  you  ?    Why  have  n't  we  seen  you  all  this 
time  ? 
LAFONT  (embarrassed) 

How  are  you  getting  along? 

DU    MESNIL 

Fine  as  silk.  You  did  n't  answer  my  question. 
What  's  happened  that  you  have  n't  been  showing  up 
here  at  all? 

CLOTILDE 

Don't  tease  him.  He  has  a  great  sorrow,  have  n't 
you,  Mr.  Lafont? 

LAFONT 

Yes,  Mrs.  Du  Mesnil. 

DU    MESNIL 

What  sorrow? 

CLOTILDE 

Shall  I  tell  my  husband? 


228  THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS        [act  hi 

LAFONT 

If  you  want  to. 

DU    MESNIL 

Let 's  have  it. 

CLOTILDE 

He  's  been  jealous. 

DU    MESNIL 

Jealous  !  {To  Lafont)  What?  You  're  still  jealous, 
at  your  age?  {To  his  wife)  And  who  the  devil  is  he 
jealous  of?  Some  woman  who  does  n't  belong  to  him, 
I  '11  bet.  These  single  men  !  They  deny  themselves 
nothing.  And  then  they  are  jealous  in  the  bargain. 
Want  me  to  tell  you  a  famous  economist's  definition 
of  jealousy?  Jealousy  is  being  deprived  of  some- 
thing one  wants.  That 's  all.  If  you  were  married, 
you  would  n't  be  deprived,  and  then  you  would  n't 
be  jealous.     Is  n't  that  right,  Clo tilde? 

CLOTILDE 

Now  you  had  better  stop  ! 

DU    MESNIL 

Jealous  !    (  To  his  •wife)    Did  you  tell  him  ...   ? 

CLOTILDE 

What? 

DU    MESNIL 

That  I  got  that  appointment. 

CLOTILDE 

Mr.  Lafont  was  the  first  one  who  wrote  and  con- 
gratulated you. 

DU    MESNIL 

That 's  right.  I  did  n't  remember.  He  wrote  me  in- 
stead of  coming  to  see  me.  .  .  .  (To  Lafont,  all  the 
time  looking  intently  at  his  wife)  It  was  my  uncle, 
my  good  old  uncle,  who  turned  the  trick. 


ACT  m]        THE    WOMAN    OF    PARIS  229 

CLOTILDE 

Everybody  knows  it  was  your  uncle.  You  don't  have 
to  shout  it  from  the  housetops. 

DU    MESNIL 

Well,  it 's  better  to  be  a  revenue  collector  than  to  be 
jealous,  eh?  (To  his  wife)  This  poor  Lafont!  He 
is  n't  yet  out  of  his  sulks.  His  nose  is  n't  back  in 
joint  yet.  .  .  .  Come  now,  did  she  deceive  you,  or 
did  n't  she  ? 

LAFONT 

Don't  bother  me. 

DU    MESNIL 

You  can  tell  an  old  pal  like  me.     Did  she  or  did  n't 

she.'' 

CLOTILDE 

My  husband  is  asking  you  a  question.  Why  don't 
you  answer? 

LAFONT 

What  do  you  want  me  to  say?  Is  there  a  man,  any 
man,  who  can  swear  that  his  mistress  has  n't  deceived 
him  ?  Mine  says  no  ;  she  could  n't  very  well  say  yes. 
We  've  made  up  again  ;  that 's  of  course  what  we 
both  wanted. 

CLOTILDE 

Really  !  It 's  a  good  thing  the  lady  is  n't  here  when 
you  say  that.  She  might  guess  what  opinion  you 
hold  of  her  and  other  women.  Faith,  Mr.  Lafont, 
absolute  faith  —  that 's  the  only  winning  card 
with  us. 

DU    MESNIL 

It 's  the  one  I  have  always  played,  dearest  ! 

CURTAIN 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

(La  Navette) 

a  comedy  in  one  act 

1878 


PERSONS 

Arthur 

Alfred 

Armand 

Antonia 

Adèle 


THE  MERRY-GO-ROUND 


SCENE 

The  stage  is  set  as  a  fashionable  Parisian  drawing- 
room.  At  the  back  is  an  entrance  with  double  doors; 
two  other  entran\ces  with  single  doors,  one  at  the  left 
in  the  foreground,  the  other  at  the  right  in  the  back- 
ground. At  the  right,  in  the  foreground,  a  sofa.  At 
the  left  a  table  and  writing  materials.  Other  articles  of 
furniture. 

When  the  curtain  rises,  Antonia  and  Alfred  are  seated 
at  a  card  table  set  in  the  centre  of  the  stage, 

ANTONIA 

Forty  bezique!  Do  you  hear?  I've  got  forty 
bezique  !  Take  a  card.  Take  a  card,  will  you  !  Now 
please  play,  or  go  away  ! 

ALFRED  {throwing  down  his  cards) 

You  are  right,  Antonia  ;  I  '11  get  out  of  here.  {He 
rises  and  goes  to  get  his  cane  and  hat;  then  returning 
to  Antonia,  who  has  also  risen)    Antonia  ! 

ANTONIA  (going  in  front  of  him  and  guiding  him  toward 
the  door  on  the  left)   Au  revoir,  my  dear. 

ALFRED 

Where  are  you  going.'' 

ANTONIA 

You  can  see,  can't  you .''  —  I  'm  going  into  my  bed- 
room. 


234  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ALFRED 

Hang  it  all,  wait  a  minute  ;   I  'm  going  to  leave. 
ANTONiA  (^halting) 
Leave. 

ALPRED  (after  a  display  of  bad  humor,  places  his  cane 
and  hat  on  the  card  table  and  comes  close  to  Antonia) 
I  don't  understand  you,  Antonia,  dear.  I  come  here 
and  you  make  a  row  ;  the  quarrel  annoys  me,  and  you 
start  a  game  of  bezique;  playing  bezique  bores  me, 
and  you  pack  me  off. 

ANTONIA 

It 's  your  fault.  Why  did  you  come  so  late,  when  I 
was  n't  expecting  you? 

ALFRED 

It  strikes  me,  Antonia,  that  I  have  the  right  to  come 
here  at  any  time  that  suits  me. 

ANTONIA 

The  right  !  The  right  !  You  never  talk  of  anything 
but  your  right  !  I  have  n't  made  an  agreement  with 
you  not  to  see  anybody  or  not  to  go  anywhere. 

ALFRED 

Look  at  the  way  you  treat  me  !  You  ask  me  to  drop 
in  at  your  dressmaker's.  I  go  there  like  a  good  fel- 
low, and  I  bring  you  her  receipted  bill.  You  scarcely 
give  me  a  word  of  thanks  for  it. 

ANTONIA 

What  do  I  care  for  one  little  bilLf* 

ALFRED 

Bear  in  mind  that  this  attention  was  quite  voluntary 
on  my  part.  I  was  n't  bound  to  do  it,  according  to 
our  little  understanding. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  235 

ANTONIA 

Our  little  understanding!  You  talk  enough  about 
our  little  understanding,  so  I  am  in  no  danger  of 
forgetting  it.  I  'm  getting  sick  of  it.  Alfred  gets 
up  late  in  the  morning  !  Alfred  takes  breakfast  with 
his  friends.  He  goes  to  the  Stock  Exchange,  to  his 
club,  to  the  auction  rooms  ;  he  goes  everywhere,  Alfred 
does  ;  while  I,  his  mistress,  stay  here  and  wait  pa- 
tiently for  him  to  come.  Have  you  bothered  your 
head  in  the  least  with  my  business.'^ 

ALFRED 

What  business.'' 

ANTONIA 

Should  n't  you  enquire  at  the  Insurance  Company 
.  .  .  about  that  little  annuity  you  've  been  promising 
me  so  long.'' 

ALFRED 

I  've  been  at  your  dressmaker's. 

ANTONIA 

That  is  n't  enough.  You  must  go  to  the  Insurance 
Company,  too.     Are  you  going.? 

ALFRED 

I  'm  going  when  I  get  ready. 

ANTONIA 

Stay  here  then.  (She  leaves  him  and  goes  out  at  the 
left) 

ALFRED 

I  've  played  the  fool.  I  've  certainly  played  the  fool  ! 
My  relations  with  Antonia  used  to  be  delightful. 
Antonia  had  a  protector  —  who  annoyed  us  a  little 
—  but  nevertheless  our  relations  were  delightful.  I 
wanted  to  be  the  protector  myself.  Why?  That's 
it,  why.?    It  was  a  matter  of  maintaining  my  dignity. 


236  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

In  the  long  run  a  man  gets  tired  of  those  three- 
cornered  arrangements  which  demand  on  a  woman's 
part  such  endless  precaution,  such  an  excessive  deli- 
cacy —  which  she  does  n't  always  have.  Besides,  I 
wanted  to  make  my  friendship  for  Antonia  place  her 
in  an  exceptional  position  —  somewhere  between 
good  society  and  bad  —  nearer  to  the  good,  if  possi- 
ble. For  instance,  Antonia  and  her  mother  had  not 
seen  each  other  for  a  long  time,  and  my  first  thought 
was  to  have  a  reconciliation.  Antonia  and  her 
mother  can't  remain  together  five  minutes  without 
pulling  hair,  but  she  is  company  for  the  little  girl. 
I  give  Antonia  her  due.  She  really  appreciates  the 
honorable  side  of  my  conduct  toward  her;  but  on 
the  money  side  she  is  n't  satisfied.  She  is  unreason- 
able. One  day  it  is  this  thing,  the  next  day  some- 
thing else.  She  does  n't  swindle  me  ;  no,  the  poor 
girl  is  incapable  of  swindling  me.  She  —  she  's  trim- 
ming me.  That 's  the  way  to  put  it  —  she  's  trim- 
ming me.  Well,  I  don't  like  it.  It 's  annoying. 
After  all,  though,  I  realize  that  she  is  justified.  She 
gave  up  a  good  position  for  me.  She  is  young, 
pretty,  faithful.  Oh,  she  surely  is  faithful!  Only 
yesterday  she  was  saying  to  me,  reminding  me  of  the 
time  when  I  was  not  the  only  one,  "  Not  for  the 
world,  not  for  anything  in  the  world,  would  I  go 
back  to  such  an  existence." 

[Antonia  reenters;  Arthur  is  see'n  behind  her  hold- 
ing her  by  the  waist;   she  closes  the  door  in  his  face. 

ANTONIA 

What!  I  leave  you  here  alone.  You  must  see  that 
I  've  had  enough  of  you  for  to-day.  And  now  I  come 
back  and  find  you  here? 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  237 

ALFRED 

You  did  n't  think  I  would  go  away  without  saying 
good-bye?  Antonia,  tell  me  the  meaning  of  this  per- 
sistence in  trying  to  get  rid  of  me.  It  does  n't  de- 
ceive me.    Are  you  going  out.'' 

ANTONIA 

I  am  not  going  out. 

ALFRED 

Then  you  are  expecting  someone? 

ANTONIA 

I  am  expecting  no  one.  It  only  remains  for  you  to 
get  suspicious  of  me  and  start  a  jealous  quarrel. 
Take  your  hat,  shake  hands,  and  go  away.  We 
shall  only  be  saying  mean  things  again,  and  that 's 
of  no  use. 

ALFRED  (  obeying  mechanically) 
When  shall  I  see  you  again  ? 

ANTONIA 

Whenever  you  like. 

[^He  goes  to  the  door  at  the  hacTe  of  the  stage;  An- 
tonia accompanies  him;  he  hesitates  again  for  a 
jnoment  and  then  goes  out. 

ANTONIA 

At  last!  He's  gone  at  last!  (^Coming  hack  to  the 
front  of  the  stage)  I  used  to  be  crazy  about  that 
fellow,  and  now  I  can't  bear  the  sight  of  him.  How 
changeable  men  are!  {Going  to  the  door  at  the  left 
and  opening  it)    Arthur!    Arthur! 

ARTHUR  {aside,  after  giving  several  indications  of  weari- 
ness and  displeasure)  This  state  of  affairs  can't  go 
on  much  longer  ! 


238  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

Now  be  nice,  Arthur.  Set  that  table  back,  gather  up 
the  cards  and  put  them  out  of  my  sight.     Hurry  up  ! 

ARTHUR  {oheying  mechanically;    aside) 

I  do  the  housework  —  in  the  other  fellow's  house. 
{He  folds  up  the  card  table  and  puts  it  back  in  its 
place  on  the  right  side  of  the  rear  entrance) 

ANTONIA 

Now  come  here  to  me.    What  are  you  thinking  about.'' 

ARTHUR 

I  am  thinking  of  us  —  us  three. 

ANTONIA 

The  subject  is  n't  agreeable,  my  dear. 

ARTHUR 

I  don't  find  it  agreeable,  either.  So  this  is  what  you 
call  spending  the  day  together  —  I  in  there,  you  out 
here  —  with  the  other  man  ! 

ANTONIA 

The  other  man  !  The  other  man  !  Go  ahead  and 
pity  yourself! 

ARTHUR 

What  do  you  mean  by  that.?* 

ANTONIA 

Never  mind.  I  know  what  I  mean.  Come  here,  you 
naughty  creature.  You  don't  deserve  all  the  trouble 
that  I  go  to  for  you.  What  kind  of  a  face  is  that 
to  make  to  your  girlie?  Smile  a  little  —  quick  now! 
—  Better  than  that  !  —  That 's  more  like  it  ! 

ARTHUR 

Do  you  love  me,  Antonia.'* 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  239 

ANTONIA 

Yes,  I  love  you.  If  I  did  n't  love  you,  why  should 
I  let  you  stay  around  here?  It  is  n't  because  of 
anything  you  give  me,  is  it? 

ARTHUR 

I  was  expecting  that  reproach. 

ANTONIA 

I  don't  say  it  as  a  reproach,  my  dear.  If  you 
have  n't  a  cent,  it  is  n't  your  fault. 

ARTHUR 

I  have  n't  a  cent  ! 

ANTONIA 

Everybody  knows  perfectly  well  that  young  men  are 
not  rolling  in  money.  But  I  have  seen  very  few  as 
dead  broke  as  you  are. 

ARTHUR 

Broke!  I  am  dead  broke!  (Aside)  This  state  of 
things  can't  go  on  much  longer.     Antonia! 

ANTONIA 

Yes,  dear? 

ARTHUR 

Antonia,  who  knows  but  that  I  might  wake  up  to- 
morrow morning  with  a  fortune? 

ANTONIA 

I  don't  say  no.  It  takes  so  little  nowadays  to  make 
a  fortune  —  some  good  political  graft  would  do  it. 

ARTHUR 

An  inheritance  would  do  it,  too. 

ANTONIA 

Oh,  inheritances  !  You  always  have  to  wait  a  long 
time  for  those. 


240  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

AKTHUR 

Nevertheless,  they  <;ome.  Late,  very  much  too  late, 
but  yet  they  come.  What  would  you  think  of  an  in- 
heritance which  might  suddenly  fall  to  me,  and  which 
would  be  enough  for  two  persons?  What  should  we 
do? 

ANTONIA 

That  would  depend  on  you. 

ARTHUR 

On  me  alone? 

ANTONIA 

What  do  you  want  me  to  say?  What  do  you  want 
to  know?  Yes,  boy,  yes!  If  you  could  provide  for 
me  properly,  I  should  very  quickly  sacrifice  my  pres- 
ent position. 

ARTHUR 

Is  that  really  so?  You  would  sacrifice  your  position 
forme? 

ANTONIA 

As  quick  as  a  wink. 

ARTHUR 

That 's  well  enough  to  say. 

ANTONIA 

I  'd  do  it,  too.  I  don't  want  to  grumble,  Arthur, 
but  my  life  is  n't  one  sweet  song.  I  should  love  dearly 
to  live  openly  with  you,  all  deception  aside,  without 
that  continual  tyranny  of  "  the  other  man,"  as  you 
call  him  —  who  is  within  his  rights,  after  all,  and 
whom  I  cannot  help  pitying  and  respecting.  My 
dear,  a  hundred  times  I  have  been  at  the  point  of 
sending  him  away.  If  I  have  n't  done  so,  it  was  on 
your  account,  solely  on  your  account.      I  said  to 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  241 

m3^self  :  "  Arthur  is  not  rich,  but  he  needs  a  little 
wealth  around  him;  he  likes  my  luxury,  he  gets  the 
benefits  of  my  worldly  comforts."  Perhaps  you 
don't  understand  me,  Arthur.  It 's  only  women  that 
have  such  delicacy. 
ARTHUR  (aside) 

This  state  of  things  can't  go  on  much  longer. 

ANTONIA 

My  dear,  we  are  talking  a  good  deal  without  saying 
anything. 

ARTHUR 

Antonia,  I  see  that  you  are  not  happy.  You  can't 
be  happy.  And  as  for  me,  I  give  you  my  word  I 
suffer  intensely,  too. 

ANTONIA 

Pshaw  ! 

ARTHUR 

I  have  to  shut  my  eyes  on  a  lot  of  things.  .  .  . 

ANTONIA 

What  things.? 

ARTHUR 

What  things?  Why,  Antonia,  when  a  man  loves  a 
woman  it  is  n't  very  pleasant  —  that,  for  one  thing, 
is  n't  very  pleasant.  I  don't  enjoy  it  any  more,  stay- 
ing there  in  that  room.   .  .  . 

ANTONIA 

What  difference  do  two  or  three  hours  make.''  You 
could  put  them  in  to  much  less  advantage. 

ARTHUR 

It  is  n't  the  time  I  care  for  ;  it  is  the  question  of 
my  dignity,  if  you  want  to  know. 


242  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

Your  dignity,  my  dear?  Is  that  what  worries  you 
so  much? 

ARTHUR 

Be  careful,  Antonia,  be  careful.  That  is  just  as  if 
you  had  made  up  your  mind  to  slight  my  dignity. 
You  love  me  —  yes,  you  tell  me  so,  and  I  believe 
you;  but  you  don't  show  enough  consideration  for 
me. 

ANTONIA 

You  big  calf! 

ARTHUR 

No,  you  don't  show  enough  regard  for  me.  The 
consideration  you  show  is  n't  for  me  —  it 's  for  the 
other  man. 

ANTONIA 

Well,  my  dear,  I  've  really  got  to  have  something 

for  him. 
ARTHUR  {brusquely) 

Good-bye,  Antonia. 
ANTONIA  {surprised) 

Good-bye? 

ARTHUR 

This  state  of  affairs  can't  go  on  much  longer. 

ANTONIA 

Why  not? 

ARTHUR 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  repulsive  to  you. 

ANTONIA 

I  did  n't  say  that. 

ARTHUR 

In  the  second  place,  it  humiliates  me. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  243 

ANTOXIA 

It 's  rather  late  to  think  of  that. 

ARTHUE 

From  this  time  forth  I  've  got  to  have  you  all  to 
myself,  or  not  at  all. 

ANTONIA 

Are  you  asking  me  to  make  a  sacrifice.'' 

ARTHUR  , 

Yes  —  and  no.     Good-bye,  Antonia. 

ANTONIA 

Very  well  ;   as  you  please.    Good-bye,  dear. 

ARTHUR 

Good-bye,  Antonia.  Either  I  must  have  you  all  to 
myself  or  not  at  all.    {He  goes  out  quickly) 

ANTONIA 

He  's  going  !  He  's  leaving  me  !  Without  warning, 
without  reason,  without  regret!  And  just  when  I 
was  so  happy  with  him,  just  when  I  loved  him  more 
than  ever!  Why.'*  Our  relationship  is  nothing  new. 
We  have  both  laughed  over  it  many  times.  He  had 
something  on  his  mind  ho  did  n't  tell  me  —  there  's 
no  doubt  about  that.  Oh,  Arthur,  Arthur!  That 
is  no  way  to  treat  a  woman  !  If  she  does  MTong, 
you  can  scold  her.  If  she  does  it  again,  you  can 
slap  her.  But  it  is  n't  right  to  leave  her  in  the 
lurch.  Such  a  fine  fellow,  so  good-natured,  full  of 
fun  —  chuck  full  of  fun.  I  was  never  bored  one 
minute  with  that  little  rascal. 
ADÈLE  (entering  hy  the  door  on  the  right) 

Here  are  two  letters  for  you,  ma'am.  One  of  them 
perhaps  I  should  n't  have  taken.  The  other  just 
came  by  messenger. 


244  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

Put  the  letters  in  your  pocket.     I  'U  read  them  next 
week. 

ADÈLE 

The   messenger   is    waiting   outside    for    an   answer, 
ma'am.    He  said  this  one  was  from  Mr.  Delaunay. 
ANTONIA  (surprised) 

From  Arthur!  (She  takes  the  letter,  opens  it  and 
reads)  "  Dear  Antonia,  my  uncle  is  dead.  I  cannot 
keep  the  glorious  news  from  you  any  longer.  With- 
out exaggerating  the  size  of  his  legacy,  I  may  say 
that  it  allows  me  to  be  in  earnest  with  a  woman. 
If  you  love  me  as  I  love  you,  we  can  very  easily  come 
to  an  understanding.  Whatever  the  other  man  has 
been  doing  for  you,  I  will  do  —  no  more  and  no  less. 
I  await  your  reply."  Dear  Arthur!  Adèle,  tell  the 
messenger  to  kiss  the  gentleman  for  me  !  Send  word 
for  him  to  come  !    Tell  him  to  come  immediately. 

ADÈLE 

Very  well,  ma'am.  (Aside)  All  the  same,  I  am  go- 
ing to  put  that  little  chap's  letter  on  this  table,  where 
the  missus  will  see  it  and  open  it.    (She  goes  out) 

ANTONIA 

What  a  surprise!  But  was  n't  I  just  saying  that  he 
had  something  on  his  mind?  He  was  serious  and 
embarrassed.  But  why  embarrassed?  What  kept 
him  from  telling  me  what  he  has  written?  It  does  n't 
hurt  a  woman's  feelings  to  offer  to  —  his  letter  is 
silly  —  but  I  don't  hold  it  against  him.  He  does  n't 
know  any  better.  He  has  n't  had  practice.  (Going 
to  the  table  on  the  left)  Now,  then  !  Now  to  send 
the  other  fellow  about  his  business  !  When  Arthur 
comes    here   I   want   him   to   find   me    already    free. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 


245 


Something  in  strong  language  !  No  idle  phrases  ! 
Just  a  few  stinging  words;  he'll  understand.  (She 
writes)  "  Idiot  !  Booby  !  Spendthrift  on  yourself 
and  miser  with  others!  Faker!  Cuckold!"  {Hesi- 
tating) Should  I  put  that  in?  Well,  it  makes  it  all 
the  stronger.  I  '11  let  it  go  :  "  Cuckold  !  "  That 's 
enough.  He  does  n't  deserve  anything  more.  Now 
the  envelope!  (Noticing  the  letter  left  by  Adèle) 
A  letter  !  I  '11  read  it  in  a  minute.  (  Writing  the  ad- 
dress) "  Mr.  Alfred  Letourneur.  Personal  and  im- 
portant." That 's  settled.  (Taking  the  letter  left 
by   Adèle)     What    does    this    say.''      Gracious,   it's 


poetry 


Husbands  on  the  watch, 
Lovers  that  complain, 
Sweethearts  yet  to  come. 
Yesterday's  bold  swain; 

Spite  of  lying  words, 
Spite  of  ills  they  do. 
All  agree  on  one  thing: 
Women  must  be  true. 

Just  a  passing  fancy. 
Just  a  day's  caprice; 
Nothing  in  the  wide  world 
Better  is  than  these. 


Fair  one,  hear  the  voice 
Crying  unto  you: 
To  your  love  be  faithful. 
To  your  love  be  true. 

That 's  pretty  poetry,  very  pretty.     The  fellow  who 
wrote  that  understands.     What  is  the  writer's  name.? 


246  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 


Armand  Fe  —  Fe  —  Felix  ;  no,  not  Felix  —  Armand 
Fecit  —  Fecit  ;    that 's  his  last  name. 
ADÈLE  (returning) 
Mr.  Arthur,  ma'am. 

AN  TO  NIA 

Show  him  in.  {Handing  Adèle  the  letter  wliich  she 
has  just  written)  Adèle,  deliver  this  letter;  and 
don't  let  anyone  disturb  us.  (Arthur  enters)  Dear 
Arthur  ! 

ARTHUR 

Sweetheart  ! 

ANTONIA 

What  a  hold  you  have  on  me  ! 

ARTHUR 

What  power  you  have  over  me  !  Does  my  proposal 
satisfy  you? 

ANTONIA 

I  'm  delighted  with  it. 

ARTHUR 

How  good  you  are  to  accept  it  ! 

ANTONIA 

How  generous  you  are  to  offer  it  to  me  ! 

ARTHUR 

Don't  thank  me,  Antonia.  Let  us  love  each  other 
with  dignity,  loyally,  serenely  ;  and  I  shall  not  regret 
spending  my  money. 

ANTONIA 

Your  money,  dear  —  your  uncle's  money.  The  first 
time  we  go  anywhere  together  it  shall  be  in  honor 
of  your  uncle,  if  you  like.  We  shall  go  to  the  ceme- 
tery, on  foot,  arm  in  arm,  like  a  newly  married 
couple,  and  place  a  wreath  on  his  grave,  with  this 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  247 

inscription:  {Interrupting  herself)  What  was  your 
uncle's  name? 

AETHUE 

Robinet. 

ANTONIA 

With  this  inscription  :  "  To  Robinet,  from  his  nephew 
and  niece  !  "  We  '11  have  it  that  way  :  "  And  his 
niece."     Can't  we? 

AETHUE 

All  right.  We'll  say:  "And  his  niece."  And  so, 
Antonia,  you  do  not  regret  what  you  are  giving  up? 

ANTONIA 

I  am  thinking  only  of  what  I  am  getting  in  return. 

AETHUE 

Your  mind  is  made  up? 

ANTONIA 

Better  than  that.     The  thing  is  settled. 

AETHUE 

I  am  in  my  own  house,  here? 

ANTONIA 

Yes,  dear,  you  are  in  your  own  house. 

AETHUE  {taking  her  hand  and  leading  her  over  to  the 
sofa)  Antonia,  come  here  a  moment,  sit  down, 
and  let  us  talk.  Let  us  talk  like  two  friends,  bound 
together  above  all  else  by  that  affection  without 
which,  God  knows,  the  one  that  takes  is  the  slave  of 
the  one  that  gives.  Nevertheless,  Antonia  dear,  you 
must  understand  that,  when  I  take  on  myself  such 
heavy  responsibilities,  I  am  assuming  that  I  also 
acquire  certain  rights. 

ANTONIA  {laying  stress  on  the  word) 
Naturally  ! 


248  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ARTHUR 

Why  do  you  look  at  me  like  that? 

ANTONIA 

Can't  I  look  at  you  at  all  now? 

ARTHUR 

If  I  speak  to  you  about  the  pecuniary  sacrifices  I 
have  decided  to  make,  it  is  not  because  I  regret 
them. 

ANTONIA 

It  will  be  very  soon,  dear. 

ARTHUR 

Don't  interrupt  me.  All  I  figure  on  is  that  they  shall 
serve  me  better  than  they  did  that  poor  chap  whose 
place  I  am  taking.  You  acted  —  scandalously  — 
toward  him  ;  there  's  no  other  word  for  it.  I  found 
it  very  funny,  I  confess.  But  to-day,  when  I  am 
taking  his  place  —  if  another  fellow  should  take 
mine  —  ahem  !     I  should  n't  find  it  funny  at  all. 

ANTONIA 

Stand  up!  Turn  around  a  little!  A  little  more! 
What 's  the  matter  with  your  clothes  ? 

ARTHUR 

They  're  all  right,  are  n't  they  ?  Genteel  and  digni- 
fied.   Don't  they  become  me? 

ANTONIA 

They  make  you  look  thinner.  You  are  not  so  stout 
as  you  used  to  be. 

ARTHUR 

Are  you  going  to  listen  to  me? 

ANTONIA 

I  'm  listening. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  249 

ARTHUR  (sitting  down  again) 

In  our  new  scheme  of  things,  I  am  going  to  draw 
a  hard  and  fast  line  between  what  is  beginning  and 
what  has  gone  before.  In  our  new  scheme  of  things  — 

ANTONIA 

Come  here.  Put  your  head  down  here.  A  white 
hair  !    {She  pulls  it  out) 

ARTHUR 

In  our  new  scheme  of  things  — 

ANTONIA 

White  hairs  already  !    You  're  going  to  the  dogs  ! 

ARTHUR 

In  our  new  scheme  of  things  — 

ANTONIA 

Say,   you   know   that   estate   won't   come    in   at    all 
badly,  if  you  are  already  beginning  to  have  white 
hairs. 
ARTHUR  (losing  his  patience  and  folding  his  arms) 
Antonia  ! 

ANTONIA 

I  'm  listening,  dear  ;  I  'm  listening. 

ARTHUR 

In  our  new  scheme  of  things  I  am  going  to  be  mighty 
strict,  I  can  tell  you,  about  your  social  connections, 
your  diversions,  and  even  your  reading.  For  in- 
stance, whenever  a  spicy  novel  came  out,  I  used  to 
bring  it  to  you.  I  should  n't  let  you  have  it  now. 
We  used  to  go  to  the  Variety  Theatre  to  see  some 
popular  comedian  four  or  five  times  in  the  same  play. 
No  more  of  that.  When  I  take  you  anywhere,  it  will 
be  to  a  refined,  high-class  place  like  the  Theatre- 
Français,  or  the  Opéra-Comique. 


250  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

That  suits  me  perfectly.  But  you,  dear  —  are  you 
clever  enough  to  understand  those  heavier  things? 

ARTHUR 

What 's  that? 

ANTONIA 

I  say,  are  you  clever  enough?  You  are  a  lively  fel- 
low, you  know.  You  like  to  laugh.  You  appreciate 
the  kind  of  show  they  have  at  the  Palais-Royal  — 
but  the  higher-class  things  ! 

ARTHUR 

Shall  I  go  on  with  what  I  was  saying? 

ANTONIA 

Go  ahead.  But  it  strikes  me  you  are  n't  quite  clever 
enough. 

ARTHUR 

I  want  you  to  give  me  a  list  of  all  your  friends. 
On  this  list  you  will  write  first  the  name,  then  the 
address,  then  their  business,  if  they  have  any.  If 
they  have  no  business  —  well,  I  '11  know  what  that 
means.  Those  friends  of  yours  that  I  know,  Antonia, 
are  nice  girls,  of  course,  but  second-raters. 

ANTONIA 

Well,  what  do  you  expect?  I  can't  associate  with  the 
nobility.  Why  don't  you  introduce  me  to  your 
family  then? 

ARTHUR 

Don't  exaggerate.  I  am  quite  sure  that  when  you 
are  living  peacefully,  you  will  make  some  good  ac- 
quaintances, meet  some  proper  women  —  women  di- 
vorced from  their  husbands,  for  instance.  There  are 
some. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  251 

ANTONIA 

Yes,  there  are  a  few. 

ARTHUR 

There  are  a  lot  of  them  —  plenty.  {Difidently') 
Now  I  am  going  to  take  up  a  more  delicate  matter 
than  the  rest  —  about  jour  mother. 

ANTONIA 

Well,  what  about  my  mother? 

ARTHUR 

You  don't  see  her  any  more  ? 

ANTONIA 

No,  dear;    we  are  better  off  apart. 

ARTHUR 

Antonia,  I  want  you  to  go  and  see  your  mother  and 
make  up  with  her.   Don't  put  it  off  ;  do  it  to-morrow. 
There  is  no  better  society  for  a  woman  than  that  of 
her  mother. 
ANTONIA  {yawning) 
Is  that  all? 

ARTHUR 

Yes,  that's  all  —  just  now,  at  least.  When  other 
things  come  to  me,  I  '11  speak  about  them  to  you. 
{She  starts  to  rise,  and  he  holds  her  back)  Do  you 
understand  me  perfectly,  Antonia?  In  a  word,  what 
is  it  I  want  ?  In  the  first  place,  to  give  our  intimacy 
the  stamp  of  respectability,  which  heretofore  it 
has  n't  had.  Besides,  I  want  to  bring  into  your  life 
a  few  notions  of  discipline,  delicacy  and  morality. 

ANTONIA 

Oh,  he's  a  windbag;  he's  a  windbag!  {Going  over 
and  sitting  down  near  the  table)  Tell  m€,  my  dear 
—  you  have  spoken  of  your  parents  sometimes,  but 


252  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

never  about  this  uncle  who  left  you  the  money.    Was 
it  long  ago  that  you  lost  him? 
ARTHUR  (embarrassed) 

No,  not  long.     Five  or  six  months. 

ANTONIA 

Oh,  five  or  six  months  !  Now  I  do  recall  that  you 
were  wearing  mourning,  though  you  did  n't  seem 
very  sad. 

ARTHUR 

That  was  for  him. 

ANTONIA 

Then  why  did  n't  you  tell  me  the  truth  ? 

ARTHUR 

Do  you  want  me  to  tell  it  to  you  to-day?     I  fore- 
saw what  was  coming  —  that  we  were  going  to  cast 
our  lot  together.     But  I  had  n't  then  made  up  my 
mind.     I  was  afraid  of  being  stung! 
ANTONIA  (aside) 
Being  stung! 

ARTHUR 

You  see,  I  am  frank. 

ANTONIA 

Very   frank  !     Being  stung  !     How  much  did  your 
uncle  leave  you? 
ARTHUR  (embarrassed) 

How  much  did  my  uncle  leave  me? 

ANTONIA 

Yes,  your  uncle  .  .  .  Robinet  —  what  did  he  leave 
you? 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs. 

ANTONIA 

Close  to  two  hundred  thousand,  was  n't  it? 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  253 

ARTHUR 

Yes,  perhaps  it  will  reach  two  hundred  thousand 
francs. 

ANTONIA 

Two  hundred  thousand  francs  !  Fine  !  That 's  a 
lot  of  money! 

ARTHUR 

It  is  a  lot  of  money  if  it  is  handled  economically. 
Otherwise  it  would  go  quickly  enough. 

ANTONIA 

Ring  for  Adèle  and  have  her  bring  my  clothes. 

ARTHUR 

Are  you  going  out.'' 

ANTONIA 

We  are  going  out.  We  're  going  over  to  the  ceme- 
tery. The  least  you  can  do  is  to  spend  a  few  hun- 
dred francs  in  flowers  and  wreaths  in  honor  of  a 
man  who  has  left  you  a  fortune.    (She  rises) 

ARTHUR 

A  few  hundred  francs  !    How  you  talk  ! 

ANTONIA 

On  the  way  back  from  the  cemetery,  we  shall  stop 
in  at  the  dressmaker's.    I  have  a  little  bill  to  settle. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  no,  Antonia  ;   no  ;   no  bills  ! 

ANTONIA 

Am  I  asking  so  very  much  of  you?     Don't  worry, 
dear.     You  won't  be  stung.     I  am  not  an  extrava- 
gant or  exacting  woman.     I  have  showed  you  that 
long  ago. 
ARTHUR  (going  over  to  her) 

Antonia,  this  dressmaker's  bill  —  does  it  amount  to 
much.f* 


254  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

A  good  deal.    {He  retreats) 
ARTHUE  (coming  back) 

I  say,  have  n't  you  some  fancy,  some  whim,  that 
wouldn't  be  positively  ruinous? 

ANTONIA 

I  don't  want  a  thing. 

ARTHUR 

Nothing? 

ANTONIA 

Nothing.  Later  on,  when  we  have  been  economical, 
we  shall  see. 

ARTHUR  (retreating  again) 

Very  well,  later  on  !    Let  us  wait  awhile. 

ANTONIA  (going  over  to  him) 

Do  you  know  anything  about  the  Insurance  Com- 
panies ? 

ARTHUR 

I  know  about  them  just  as  everybody  else  does. 

ANTONIA 

It  seems  that  for  little  or  nothing  these  companies 
will  provide  an  annuity. 

ARTHUR 

Oh,  no,  Antonia  ;   no,  no  annuities  !    - 

ANTONIA 

Let 's  not  talk  about  it.     I  want  it  and  I  don't  want 
it.     I  live  from  day  to  day.     Nevertheless,  it  would 
be  a  comfort  for  you  if  you  should  happen  to  die. 
I  asked  you  to  ring  for  Adèle. 
ARTHUR  (having  rung) 

A  word  about  Adèle.  Let  her  drop  this  familiar 
manner  she  has  adopted  toward  me.  She  calls  me 
"  Mr.  Arthur,"  and  sometimes  just  plain  "  Arthur." 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  255 

Have  her  say  "  the  gentleman  "  ;  I  am  the  gentleman 
now  ;  have  her  say  the  "  gentleman." 

ANTONIA 

Very  well,  dear. 
ADÈLE  (entering) 

Did  you  ring,  ma'am? 

ANTONIA 

Yes  ;   bring  me  my  hat,  cloak  and  gloves. 

ADÈLE 

Do  you  want  your  key,  ma'am? 

ANTONIA 

My  key?  No,  that  is  n't  necessary.  (Adèle  goes  out 
at  the  left)    You  have  a  key  to  my  apartment? 

ARTHUR 

Yes. 

ANTONIA 

Give  it  to  me. 

ARTHUR 

No. 

ANTONIA 

Don't  act  like  a  baby.  You  are  at  home  now.  You 
can  come  whenever  you  please,  ring  the  bell  day  or 
night,  and  not  be  turned  away.  You  don't  need  a 
key. 

ARTHUR 

That 's  right,  I  don't  need  it.     (He  gives  her  the 
key) 
ANTONIA  (in  a  low  voice  to  Adèle,  while  dressing) 

Look  at  him,  Adèle.     Don't  you  think  he  is  changed? 

ADÈLE 

Oh,  yes,  ma'am  ;  he  is  like  another  man. 


256  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

That  letter  I  found  on  my  table  —  where  did  it  come 
from  ? 

ADÈLE 

I  was  asked,  to  give  it  to  you,  ma'am. 

ANTONIA 

You  can  tell  Mr.  Armand  for  me  that  he  writes  very 
nicely. 

ADÈLE 

Do  you  wish  to  see  him,  ma'am?    He  is  in  the  kitchen. 

ANTONIA 

Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  before  ?  I  can't  see  him 
now. 

ARTHUR 

What  are  they  whispering  about?  (Coming  over  to 
Antonia)    Antonia,  what  are  you  saying  to  this  girl? 

ANTONIA 

I  am  giving  her  the  instructions  you  spoke  about. 

ARTHUR 

I  hope,  Antonia,  that  you  are  not  putting  me  in  a 
ridiculous  light. 
ANTONIA  (aside) 

No,  I'll  restrain  myself.  (Taking  a  bill  from  the 
table  drawer)  Here,  put  this  in  your  pocket.  It 's 
my  dressmaker's  bill.     Remind  me  to  ask  you  for  it. 

ARTHUR 

Shall  we  go? 

ANTONIA 

I  'm  ready.    (  They  go  out  by  the  rear  door) 

ADÈLE 

There  is  something  in  the  wind,  that 's  certain.  It 
looks  as  though  the  missus  was  about  to  make  a 
change.     I  'm  going  to  show  the  apartment  to  the 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  257 

little    chap.      He  '11   see   the    rest    some    other    time. 
(^Going  to  the  door  on  tlie  left  and  opening  it)    Come 
in,  sir,  come  in. 
ARMAND  {entering,  after  looking  aroimd  him) 
Is  she  coming  in.'' 

ADÈLE 

No,  she  has  gone  out. 

AEMAND 

Gone  out! 

ADÈLE 

Yes,  but  perhaps  you  won't  lose  anything  by  wait- 
ing. The  lady  read  your  letter  and  it  made  a  good 
impression. 

ARMAND 

I  believe  you  —  such  a  display  of  imagination  !  I  'm 
bursting  with  a  sonnet. 

ADÈLE 

How  old  might  you  he? 

ARMAND 

Twenty. 

ADÈLE 

And  don't  you  do  anything  but  chase  after  the 
ladies ,'' 

ARMAND 

I  'm  in  line  for  a  commission. 

ADÈLE 

Perhaps  I  did  wrong  to  help  you  to  get  acquainted 
with  the  lady.  Such  a  young  and  lively  fellow  is 
likely  to  do  silly  things. 

ARMAND 

Silly  things  !  I  shall  never  forget  the  advice  of  my 
aunt,  an  old  dowager  who  brought  me  up  in  a  high- 
toned  way  :  "  At  your  age,  my  boy,"   she  used  to 


258  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

say  to  me,  "  you  pay  —  with  your  company."  She 
says  clever  things,  my  aunt  does,  like  all  old- 
fashioned  women. 

ADÈLE  (pinching  his  ear) 

Hush  a  minute.  Somebody  is  opening  the  door. 
{Going  to  the  rear  door  and  opening  it  a  little  way) 
Look  out  !  It 's  the  missus  coming  back  !  Come  here 
and  stay  behind  me.  {They  station  themselves  at 
the  rear,  on  the  left) 

ANTONiA  {bursting  in  and  throwing  herself  on  the  sofa) 
What  a  booby  !  What  an  idiot  !  To  make  a  scene 
like  that,  right  at  my  door,  just  because  a  friend  of 
mine  speaks  to  me!  {She  takes  off  her  hat  and 
gloves) 

ADÈLE  {coming  forward) 

Of  whom  are  you  speaking,  ma'am .'' 

ANTONIA 

Of  whom?     How  can  you  ask-^*     Of  my  gentleman 
friend,  who  is  unbearably  jealous  and  violent! 
[Adèle  signals  to  Armand  to  show  himself,  and  then 
goes  out. 
ANTONIA  {observing  him) 

Who  are  you.''     What  are  you  doing  here? 

ARMAND 

Fair  one,  hear  the  voice 
Crying  unto  you  : 
To  your  love  be  faithful, 
To  your  love  be  true. 

ANTONIA 

Oh,  it 's  you,  the  writer  of  that  nice  poetry  I  re- 
ceived.'' I  don't  mind  your  sending  me  poetry,  but 
your  coming  here  is  peculiar,  to  say  the  least. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  259 

AKMAND 

The  second  time  it  will  be  much  less  so.     And  it 
won't  seem  so  at  all  the  third  time. 

ANTONIA 

He  has  confidence  enough  in  himself  !  —  What  do  you 
want,  sir? 

ARMAND 

To  please  you. 

ANTONIA 

That 's  very  difficult. 

ARMAND 

I  '11  succeed. 

ANTONIA 

He  's  conceited  enough  !  —  And  how  do  you  plan  to 
do  it.? 

ARMAND 

By  loving  you. 

ANTONIA 

That 's  the  best  thing  you  've  said  yet.     In  the  first 
place,  are  you  a  good  sport.? 

ARMAND 

Dead  game. 

ANTONIA 

Are  you  .  .  .  loving? 

ARMAND 

I  can  guarantee  that. 

ANTONIA 

Are  you  jealous? 

ARMAND 

Why  should  I  be  jealous?    It 's  for  the  other  man  to 
be  jealous.    {She  smiles)    May  I  sit  down? 


260  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

No,  sir  ;  no,  you  may  not  sit  down.  The  jealous  man 
may  come  in  any  time. 

ARMAND 

You  can  hide  me.     Where  is  the  hiding  place  here? 

ANTONIA 

He  knows  liis  little  lesson  !  —  You  say  foolish  things, 
young  man,  but  at  your  age  it  is  permissible. 

ARMAND 

At  our  age,  Antonia! 

ANTONIA 

So  !  Now  you  are  calling  me  Antonia  !  Behave  or  I 
shall  send  you  away. 

ARMAND 

You  are  surprised  to  find  such  earnestness,  or  —  to 
use  a  better  word  —  such  impatience,  in  a  lover  who 
seems  to  you  very  young,  and  yet  whose  passion  dates 
from  a  meeting  long  ago. 

ANTONIA 

A  meeting?    Tell  me  about  it.    (^She  sits  down) 

ARMAND 

Do  you  remember,  about  six  months  ago,  going  to 
the  Odéon  theatre.'* 

ANTONIA 

To  the  Odéon.? 

ARMAND 

Yes  ;  the  play  was  one  of  Ambigu's.  You  seemed 
very  much  affected  by  an  incident  which  happened  to 
the  heroine,  perhaps  finding  a  parallel  in  your  own 
life.  Seeing  those  beautiful  eyes  filled  with  tears,  I 
said  to  myself:  "  She  is  weeping;  that 's  a  good  sign. 
The    cold    calculation    of   self-interest   has    not    yet 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  261 

stifled  her  better  self.  I  am  going  to  make  her  ac- 
quaintance. She  will  ask  me  if  I  am  a  good  sport, 
if  I  am  loving,  but  she  will  not  ask  me  for  anything 
else."     Have  I  deceived  myself.»* 

ANTONIA 

No,  no,  you  have  not  deceived  yourself,  and  I  am 
grateful  for  the  good  opinion  you  have  of  me.  But 
is  this  story  really  true.'*  If  it  be  true,  we  are  already 
old  acquaintances. 

ARMAND 

Oh,  Antonia,  really  you  owe  me  — 

ANTONIA 

Hush,  sir,  hush. 

ARMAND 

It  is  seven  o'clock  —  a  delightful  houi*,  when  the  day, 
closing  for  everybody  else,  is  beginning  for  the  lover. 
He  falls  at  the  feet  of  his  idol  and  munnurs  to  her 
this  tender  prayer:  Come  to  dinner  with  me. 
ANTONIA  {taking  him  by  the  ear) 
Get  up. 

ARMAND 

Come  to  dinner  with  me. 

ANTONIA 

Get  up,  now.     Don't  you  hear  somebody  talking  in 
the  hall.? 
ARMAND  (rising) 
I  know  who  it  is. 

ANTONIA 

Well,  speak  quickly. 

ARMAND 

'T  is  h£,  by  heavens  ;  the  other  man.  (She  rises  and 
pushes  him  to  the  door  at  the  rear,  he  talking  all  the 


262  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

while)    The  banker,  the  silk  merchant,  the  wine  agent, 

the  oil  magnate;   he  is  eternal;   he  always  arrives  at 

the  same  moment. 
ANTONiA  (at  the  rear  door,  which  she  holds  half-open) 

Arthur!    {^Then  quickly  returning  to  Armand,  whom 

she  drags  over  to  the  door  on  the  left)    Go  in  there, 

sir,  and  don't  stir. 

l^Armand  disappears. 
ARTHUR  (entering  in  an  embarrassed  way) 

How  do  you  do,  Antonia. 

ANTONIA 

How  do  you  do.    Good  night  ! 

ARTHUR 

You  want  me  to  go  ? 

ANTONIA 

I  'm  not  asking  you  to  linger. 

ARTHUR 

That  *s  the  same  thing.    Antonia  Î 

ANTONIA 

Are  n't  you  going? 

ARTHUR 

When  shall  I  see  you  again .^ 

ANTONIA 

Some  day  or  other. 

ARTHUR 

Is  it  a  separation  you  are  looking  lor? 

ANTONIA 

A  separation  !    Big  words  already  !    No  ;   a  separa- 
tion would  n't  suit  me  just  now. 

ARTHUR 

Then  let  us  make  up.     Don't  sulk  about  a  burst  of 
anger  for  which  I  was  sorry  as  soon  as  it  happened. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  263 

ANTONIA 

You  need  n't  try  to  excuse  yourself,  it 's  of  no  use. 
I  don't  want  any  explanation.  I  want  you  to  go 
away  and  leave  me  alone.  My  mood  of  sadness  and 
discouragement  is  upon  me. 

ARTHUR 

Very  well,  I  '11  go.  {Taking  a  paper  from  his  pocJcet) 
Here,  take  this  bill.  I  dropped  in  at  your  dress- 
maker's. 

ANTONIA  (having  looked  over  the  bill  carefully) 

In  the  future  you  will  wait  for  my  permission  before 
settling  my  tradesmen's  bills.  Perhaps,  now,  you  've 
been  learning  things  from  my  dressmaker  .-^ 

ARTHUR 

Learning  things.'' 

ANTONIA 

Yes.  Did  n't  you  try  to  gossip  with  her  about  my 
account .? 

ARTHUR 

About  your  account.'*    I  was  too  much  occupied  with 
the  dressmaker's  account.     I  should  think,  Antonia, 
that  you  'd  appreciate  — 
ANTONIA  («  trifle  excitedly) 

Appreciate  what.^*  Do  you  think  you  are  very 
generous  about  the  payment  of  this  paltry  bill.'' 
What  do  I  care  for  one  little  bill.''  There  are  plenty 
of  men  who  would  be  glad  to  pay  for  me  —  not  one 
bill,  but  fifty  bills,  all  my  debts. 

ARTHUR 

She  makes  me  tired,  with  her  debts,  her  annuity  — 
there  is  nothing  but  money  talked  about  here. 


264  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

Listen,  my  dear,  and  understand  me  fully.  You 
don't  gain  anything  with  me  by  being  jealous  and 
rude,  I  warn  you.  I  did  what  you  wished  me  to. 
For  your  sake,  I  sent  away  a  true  friend,  a  real 
gentleman,  a  man  of  the  world,  who  humored  all 
my  whims  and  had  the  utmost  confidence  in  me.  I 
never  deceived  him  — 

ARTHUR 

Antonia  ! 

ANTONIA 

I  never  deceived  him  !  You  had  better  pattern  after 
him,  or  the  opposite  thing  will  happen  to  you. 

ARTHUR 

But  the  opposite  —  that's  just  what  I  am  asking 
—  the  opposite.    Antonia,  you  are  forgetting  — 

ANTONIA 

I  'm  forgetting  nothing,  sir,  nothing.  I  know  what 
you  asked  of  me  and  what  I  have  promised  you.  I 
have  n't  promised  you  love.  Love  is  the  foundation 
of  everything  in  the  world.  I  don't  set  myself  up  for 
a  saint.  My  past  life  is  known  well  enough,  God 
help  me,  and  if  you  pick  a  quarrel  about  a  friend  who 
speaks  to  me,  or  about  a  letter  I  receive,  we  shall 
have  a  row  every  five  minutes. 

ARTHUR 

She  makes  me  tired  !  She  makes  me  tired  !  She  is  n't 
talking  about  one  other  man  now.  She  's  talking 
about  a  crowd. 

ANTONIA 

That 's  enough  !  But  don't  mention  it  again.  Shake 
hands  —  and  go  away. 


THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND  265 

ARTHUa 

What! 

ANTONIA 

You  want  to  stay,  my  dear? 

ARTHUR 

Certainly. 

ANTONIA 

Very  well,  stay.    (She  leaves  him,  and  goes  to  the 
rear  of  tJie  room,  takes  the  card  table  and  puts  it 
where  it  was  when  the  curtain  rose) 
ARTHUR  {who  has  been  watching  her) 

Oh,  it 's  bezique  now!    {Changing  his  tone)    Antonia! 
{No  answer)    My  dear  Antonia! 

ANTONIA 

I  don't  hear  you,  my  dear. 

ARTHUR 

Just  let  me  say  one  word. 

ANTONIA 

What 's  the  use?    I  would  n't  answer.     Sit  down  and 
cut  the  cards. 
ARTHUR  {sitting  down  mechanically) 
Antonia,  I  've  done  a  foolish  thing. 

ANTONIA 

Which  one? 

ARTHUR 

We  were  happier  before, 

ANTONIA 

Before  what? 

ARTHUR 

When  I  was  n't  the  only  one. 


266  THE    MERRY-GO-ROUND 

ANTONIA 

It 's  too  late  now,  my  dear.  I  have  done  what  you 
wanted  me  to.  (To  Adèle,  who  has  just  come  in) 
What  is  it,  Adèle.? 

ADÈLE 

The  gentleman  is  outside,  ma'am.  He  says  the  letter 
you  wrote  was  terrible.  He  asks  you  to  forgive  him, 
ma'am. 

ANTONIA 

You  hear  that,  Arthur.?  You  can  change  your  mind 
if  you  want  to.    What  do  you  decide .'' 

ARTHUR 

Wait  !  Here  's  what  I  decide  !  Sssh  !  (He  rises 
softly  and  goes  on  tiptoes  to  the  door  at  the  left) 

ANTONIA  (running  after  him) 

Don't  go  in  there  !  (She  stops  him  and  places  him  in 
such  a  way  that  when  the  door  opens  he  is  concealed 
behind  it;  then,  opening  the  door  for  Armand)  Come 
out,  sir  !  Not  a  word,  or  I  am  lost  ! 
[Armand  comes  out,  crosses  the  stage,  laughing,  and 
reaches  the  door  on  the  right. 

ARTHUR  (passing  through  the  door  on  the  left) 
Already  ! 

ANTONIA  (to  Adèle) 

Let  him  come  in.  (She  sits  down  at  the  card  table  as 
Alfred  comes  in  snivelling)  Sit  down,  my  dear.  I 
have  been  waiting  patiently  for  you. 

CURTAIN 


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